hollow were his lips, parted in a casual ring
formed of smoke colored red like my insides where he wasn't allowed
although, i figured, he had planned as his destination,
so it wasn't a shock
(more of a slurring bang) when he said
goodbye
without a hug
and let the door settle deftly in its frames
with a petulant whack,
not quite a slam but
more
than i
had bargained for.

oh, so i
stood blinking in the shawls of a flourescent bulb
watching him, onion-colored by moonlight,
as shadow tears crawled themselves down my chin,
heaving across the
freckled curves of skin that still
breathed with his scent.

i was no virgin,
just a bruise kneed-martyr
with thighs still charred from burning at the
stake
and a halo-thin defense that
was easily punctured.
(i siren-steered them,
spreading mermaid-madness to
each lunatic's bed),

but i said no that night-

eyes wing-shot and rustling
with feather light dignity and rosary beads,
not mine, but a reminder of an ancient mother-

i chose
to wake in purity.