flipping the pages of the last book you made me read makes me feel like i've been suffering dyslexia for some time now
so hauntingly familiar 
not in any way foreign to me
a photo falls so delicately onto my stained rug
the photo i used as a bookmark 
the photo of us i've kept hidden
and forgotten
the photo of you handing a couple dollars 
to somebody not in the camera's view
the photo with me beside you
gratefully smiling
as i munch on a waffle
the waffle i spit out right after
the photo that reminds me of the horrid taste of that waffle
it's taste almost as bad as what i feel for you