SHEDDING CLOTHES
Paul Weinman
That chemise is what she wore.
The same one she'd thrown down
before clamoring all over my skin
before ascending to take my cards
deep within my descent into her vagina.
But in her second strut
she wore it to wear
wore it with my face pressed at wallet
nose sniffing, tongue licking
for what eyes couldn't see
ears couldn't hear. I looked
in the mirror to shave.
My lips, nose, ears...lastly
eyes were sliced away
with that razor ... what chemise
will I wear?
