Napkins, Leaves, and Sheets by Alissa Grist                                    Bookmark and Share

 

Like all other temptations

turn these lines away

at least once. I clutch my five

fingers of escape, listening

to songs for death for love—never sure.

See the crowd gather

while I strip myself bare, those

of us with eyes have a responsibility.

Everyone slow down to watch

so we can all go to hell

together. In my old age I forget

quickly and compromise.