After Erratic Encounters
I woke, awkwardly
in the dim light of morning
to find the world hushed in newborn snow.
A crucifix slaps against
the nakedness of my neck,
droplets of water blur my vision-
streaking over and down my fleshy-pink skin,
this is the way I bear my sins,
bear my sins,
I look through the steam
circling the air, to my bra
laying limp on the floor-
how strange it is now,
so small and insignificant.
Mere hours ago it waved patriotically
from your bed-post, boldly
declaring its freedom from me.
Like devoted soldiers we saluted it
with passionate pride dripping
from our all-American existence-
Yet, now, it is just as I am:
Lying limp and naked against the duty of another day.
The madness of my soul, the selfish betrayal
as though I am the same as the sun
who leaves the dawn to lie like a whore with the twilight.
An affair to remember, I suppose-
lovers to be envied,
lilies in-spite of themselves.
No matter now, I can brush my teeth;
remove the taste of your tongue from my mouth-
gagging, I can still small your cologne on my skin.
I can never rinse your fingers from my hair nor erase,
what my flesh remembers of each time
you moaned and sighed.
The morning after erratic encounters and
the mascara clings beneath my dulled eyes.