18 December 2007

16. Dear Sasha

Dear Sasha,
I'm officially mad.

I wish I could tell you how mad I've been for all these years.

I wish we could play Twister and do algebra homework before dinner and then watch a movie or play Monopoly or Clue with your parents.

I wish we could wear swim suits and leotards and stand in the front yard pretending to be sexy statues.

I wish you could show me your training bra and laugh at my jealousy.

I wish your sister could wedge her way between and make us scream at her.

Remember your pimento cheese spread? I hated that shit.

I am so mad at you.


p.s. Mad!

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