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a sort of letter to an exTo Laura Fletcher's previous piece      You Used to Be My CarpetTo Laura Fletcher's next piece

...said a virgin to a woman

You want my sympathy.

So you got a pap smear, and it's now
medically proven
that you're clean and healthy,
ready for all the sex you can handle.

Which is what you've already gotten.

So can I call it jealousy,
the feeling of disgust
in the center of me when you told me
you felt "violated"
after (hold your breath)
a doctor's appointment?

No, not that sort of rage.

Disgust is what it was.
Disgust at myself for assuming
that since you "made love"
you had some hint of sexual maturity.

You want me to hold your hand
and tell you that it will all be over soon?

You want to be safe, protected,
so you get these tests, these pills.

Security is the reason you fuck?

Disgust is the reason I don't.

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