I Ought To Feel Ashamed \ Today

I Ought To Feel Ashamed

Today

I found out that

Eighteen we both were.

She lied to them about being older so that she could

venture into unfamiliarity.

We looked fairly the same, both humane enough

just that she’s dark-skinned and I’m a fair.

I devoured my lunch; she opened up a notebook.

“What are you scribbling?” they asked.

With vigour: “Recipes. New.”

Smiling mindlessly.

I got up; she followed me closely behind.

“I wash,”

she muttered hurriedly as she saw my hands already in the water.

“It’s fine. I can do it myself.

Thank you!” — I wondered whether those

two words were supposed to escape from my mouth: wait,

She’s supposed to be the one who’s grateful.

Do I thank her? Am I supposed to?

I’m ashamed.

I ought to feel ashamed.

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