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Bob
's
shoulders
inhale
themselves
up
in
a
long
draw
,
then
drop
,
drop
,
drop
in
jerking
sobs
.
Draw
themselves
up
.
Drop
,
drop
,
drop
.
I
've
been
coming
here
every
week
for
two
years
,
and
every
week
Bob
wraps
his
arms
around
me
,
and
I
cry
.
"
You
cry
,
"
Bob
says
and
inhales
and
sob
,
sob
,
sobs
.
"
Go
on
now
and
cry
.
"
The
big
wet
face
settles
down
on
top
of
my
head
,
and
I
am
lost
inside
.
This
is
when
I
'd
cry
.
Crying
is
right
at
hand
in
the
smothering
dark
,
closed
inside
someone
else
,
when
you
see
how
everything
you
can
ever
accomplish
will
end
up
as
trash
.
Anything
you
're
ever
proud
of
will
be
thrown
away
.
And
I
'm
lost
inside
.
This
is
as
close
as
I
've
been
to
sleeping
in
almost
a
week
.
This
is
how
I
met
Marla
Singer
.
Bob
cries
because
six
months
ago
,
his
testicles
were
removed
.
Then
hormone
support
therapy
.
Bob
has
tits
because
his
testosterone
ration
is
too
high
.
Raise
the
testosterone
level
too
much
,
your
body
ups
the
estrogen
to
seek
a
balance
.
This
is
when
I
'd
cry
because
right
now
,
your
life
comes
down
to
nothing
,
and
not
even
nothing
,
oblivion
.
