The shadow of wolves


Other people’s words are caught in my throat

A crysalisis of drip coffee, crosswords, bathroom jokes, call-girl cards wedged in phone booths

Sitting making a call in a bar, the smell of leather and whiskey

I like neither

Nor your cologne sprayed too strong, the pungent announcement of you

I don’t like how you lean in to tell a satin story of misfortune

Only to laugh at the death of your hero

Or the reflection of your eyes in that frosted Mai Tai

We’re walking backwards in time

You’re a student of Russian with eyes the color of absynthe and fingers too meaty to carress

Your measure is to swallow the air and push girls into doll clothes and keep them buttoned underneath your simmer

I climbed out

Caught a ferry to Santorini

Ate volcanic ash

Ejected you from my memory like an A-Track

Spooling without sound

If I were…

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