Slut Cries Out Some Name
The bedroom light comes on. There! On the far side of the bed. Is that a
faint indentation, as if perhaps a man had slept there? Possibly. Over
there, by the clothes closet, in front of the full-length mirror,
a woman is struggling to pull a pair of too-tight jeans over her ripe
posterior. She is crying softly and calling out a name.
Whose name? Yours.