Snooping

[novapsyche]

The email told all there was to know.
The email said all there was to say.
The past wafted like smoke under the door,
heat at the doorhandle. The past coalesced
like a genie, turban and bared midriff,
feet coiling into mist. The skin of the past
shimmered with cocoa butter. The past's
tinkling laughter morphed into thunder, distant
but threatening to advance, undulating
under bruised clouds.

The email said all there was to say:
To genie with love.


This poem came as a response to a prompt from McSweeney's:

Write a scene showing a man and a woman arguing over the man's friendship with a former girlfriend. Do not mention the girlfriend, the man, the woman, or the argument.