Jacqueline S
I think with pride of the silly details
In the clothes I choose, which you never see
As you fight through zippers, buttons, stockings—
Layers impeding your access to skin.
I wore a dress with printed, painted cats,
Panties with upward flying sparrows so
The cats would have something to play with, eat.
I point out this little joke to you; annoyed
You demand: “Bend over and show me your ass,”
And I quickly comply, arching my back
While you do not count the sparrows. You tear
At lace and ribbon, I hold my blank pose,
Thinking (not of you but of cats wounding
Birds’ wings—proudly holding their prey in their mouths).