now when I don't want
you blues
you catch a whiff

of rose and our knees crumble

I’d like to say it took one night for

you to call but it’s been years

You did the work, making me

up as you wanted. Then, you said

I whined. I drank too much.

You’ve even got the color

of my dress wrong: I never

wear orange. But if it pleases you,

I’ll play along like any woman

faking orgasm. You think my

cheetah thighs, yours then,

were the silkiest, my mouth a

national treasure. There was

danger you write, my high heels

so close to your face.

So what if I was in ballet

shoes or sandals I’ll

go along, knowing

the farther I get from you

in time the more

you want me

  —Lyn Lifshin
Lyn Lifshin's poetry collection,
"Barbaro: Beyond Brokeness,"
about the courageous race
horse, is forthcoming from
Texas Review Press.
Return to Home Page