Friday, February 17, 2012

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

It happens in dark rooms
And kitchens
In break rooms and walk-ups
On front porches by front doors
And at work.
It occurs on Mondays, sometimes Thursdays
(when you least expect it),
It comes, without warning, on weekends
Before birthdays.
It stops for nothing,
Not time or distance
Or space or breakups.
It happens, and you don't get to choose
With who.

And that's what's beautiful about it.


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