Dead Share
Lisa Flaherty
At once, a heart thimble, an armor of gestures, I look on
as you stumble (the wrong way) home, with
a girl. What makes you stumble?
My decision to wear a black dress?
my faithless grin
a clog, a gargle, a sigh
the animation in a small room, the able-bodies writhing,
my rest against your fits, the swagger perfect, an
expensive sweater - scratched to be fashionable -
the poses I create and shake off like shale
you under the canopy with me and my new lover
the imaginary storyboard of my ride home
the possible mathematics, a car-full of drama, the cats
howling in our wake
the trains dragging
the closet visits, the lust and regret, the name
at the top of the list?
Someone I don’t know is in my bed, and it’s evil,
the way I crawl in.
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