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(your lover's hanging)


Your pink dress lay on my bed

Embarrassed for its situation,

Winkled by the thoughtlessness

Of your misdirected youth,

Frayed by the contrast of

Your emotion and desires,

Raised above your thighs as though

Trying to escape the predicament.


An you lay back, all dressed

For undressing,

Ready for dancing in the bed,

But too afraid to ask your partner.

Swaying between the sheets in

A rhythm unbeknown

You roll over and over

In darkness.


Your pink dress wrapped

Around your body

Like a gallow's noose,


As your lover hung

From the bedposts

His fingers wrapped in your hair,

But hung in the folds.


                                                                                   ~~~ by Michael Chaussee



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