Betrayal
To disappoint the hopes or expectations of sometimes yourself, sometimes your second date
He reads me his poetry in between strokes.
A handful of lines to hold the spectrum of emotion.
You can’t actually like this,
I call from below.
I don’t,
somewhere above my head,
But everyone else does.
All art is ripped off from each other.
I put my shirt on and go down 16 floors.
He reads books that care, though.
Megan Huffman has been previously published in Canyon Voices, YO-NEWYORK!, and Havik. She currently resides in Queens, New York with a high maintenance Pomeranian named Vincent as her roommate.