Black Tickets (2011)
“Raymond would be happy to tell me you set me up. He’d say somebody had to lay down, somebody had to sail by, somebody had to do lock-up in this cadillac of castles, and I was the shit-bred pigeon. But Raymond never made it with you in the bathtub (What? you said, Raymond, that moody hunch?), bubbles and wavelets slapping the porcelain sides, soap flowers white on your high mongolian cheeks, your wide-open lavender eyes shadowed with the pale green of a young bruise, your lips mouthing a heavenl...y O of surprise.
Late at night I think about hitting you. I double my fist and squeeze until the pain makes me tingle. When you fell back on the bed your hair spread out like feathers. I play you over and over in my head until you’re falling so slow the hours pass as your hands move up to shield your face, tips of your fingers rose-tinged and rounded. I read the lines of your palms that are lightened in the glow of the lamp. I kept the bedroom nearly dark for weeks so that when you walked toward me the tilted lampshade by the bed threw an ocher glow on your stomach.MoreLess
Late at night I think about hitting you. I double my fist and squeeze until the pain makes me tingle. When you fell back on the bed your hair spread out like feathers. I play you over and over in my head until you’re falling so slow the hours pass as your hands move up to shield your face, tips of your fingers rose-tinged and rounded. I read the lines of your palms that are lightened in the glow of the lamp. I kept the bedroom nearly dark for weeks so that when you walked toward me the tilted lampshade by the bed threw an ocher glow on your stomach.MoreLess
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