Do you want to have an affair?
It sounds so nonchalant
Coming from you
Like we’re ordering lunch
Or buying a couch.
Which one do you prefer?
You ask me, eyes open and clear and calculating
As if this is somehow my choice.
When in reality
Your vote is the one
That counts.
And I never wanted a couch
In the first place.

my toes look strange without their polish.
nail beds dead and white-looking, like clams or maggots
something alien and lifeless
and I look at my strange
lifeless toes
their bleached shells like animal casings
snake skins or snail shells
and I almost want to cry
because I remember that red polish I’d just bought
and how I thought it looked real nice with my dress
white
like a bride
and i remember that you liked it too
because of the way your fingers softened at my waist
and i pretended not to notice
when you touched my knees
hands kissing the ***** skin
“you’re filthy” you said
and i wanted to make a joke of it
about just how filthy i could be if you asked
but instead i just looked at my toes
and used all of the words i knew
to make sure
you didn’t take your hand
away from my knee
words so much
that they were silent
until your hand vanished
without a trace
so now when i look at my toes
i think about you
and how filthy
my knees always are.