Awning

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I love a felled—

Goes the phrase.

Woke with gels, the word, the beyond-word

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I talked to him because I was afraid if I didn’t he’d forget me

(squeezes temples so the jaw slacks)

He slid his hand down my pants and patted me

(laughs a clipped laugh)

Woke later with scratches (knew of course it’d gone beyond patting, but the patting’s what I remember)

Won’t even get into my hair

(does snipping motion)

My friends called him “the crab”

            (pinches thigh, flashes teeth, crosses legs then uncrosses, brings knees to chin, rests
            chin on knees, is still, gets up, stretches fakely, stares blankly, heads towards door)

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That dark green stop hitting yourself
Made a day of it
One day and then another. A pile of days
And their doors

Gets out of car, removing the wallet from her purse

“Why couldn’t we hear her?”
“She wasn’t speaking”

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A flower would listen
If you’d only drop       
Your other eye             

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One of our favorite games was “prescription.” How it worked was you told everyone

what was wrong with you and they each wrote their “prescription” on a piece of paper

without identifying who they were (no names, nicknames, inside jokes; handwriting had

to be disguised, etc.) The papers were then crumpled and tossed into a bowl, which was

handed to you, the patient, for mixing-up, and once that was done, you read them aloud

one by one so you could pick the one you liked best. Then you slept with the prescriber.

Sobbed into the apartment intercom.
I’m so glad to see you. You’re going to let me see you, right?

I do not dream.

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He heard her / He hurt her / He heard her / He hurt her / He heard her / He hurt her

He hurt her?

He heard her and he hurt her. And all time is shade

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