Twiddling the farthest tip of his waxed tache
all conspiratorial like, eyes twinkling
behind his spectacles.
'Eric is in a relationship with a jigsaw.
Every night the same routine:
he breaks it apart and yells at it -
we hear him through the walls -
then just as he reaches his furious crescendo
guilt swamps him like floodwater
and he starts to reconstruct it,
gulping back sobs, howling his stupid,
stupid remorse
as if she cares.
He keeps her in a padded case,
under the stairs.
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