Confessions of an Unrequited Snooper

going into her room when he is not there:
his crumpled boxers adjacent to the bathroom;
his ankle socks scrunched up like sad little eyes
looseleaf paper balls of jotted french notes:
her bedspread open like a loose leaf sheet of paper,
her mattress lukewarm;
I feel as if I cannot stay in here for too long because everything
takes on a sense of foreboding in this tiny little room -
I feel a little guilty; because I am guilty
shamelessly rifling through things because I want to know him more

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