12/11/15

I Feel Safe When You Lie - Derrick Brown

In somno securitas.

She slid into bed
easy as a knitting needle
into the spine of a hare.

I threw a bag of chalk into the air
across her body
while she slept.

Little rabbit.

I lit black lights into action
watched the frenzied prints emerge
from her breasts, neck, and thighs,
souvenirs of desire.

I breathed across her tight, sand-tanned stomach.
Chalk dust blew into her nose and she awoke.

I asked her
If the man made love to her with all his might?
Did it feel the same?
Did his beads of sweat fall upon the necklace I worked for?
Did he extend the milky antennae of her legs into the air?
Did you tune in God on the meat hook channel?

She said:
“My dear.
Slow, jealous detective,
Come sleep by me.
These prints are yours
And always yours.
They simply will not wash away.
You have had your head in other people’s hands for so long
you forget what your own touch looked like.”

The faders of twilight approached.
I curled into her with my arms,
dead across her ribs,
feeling the rate of her heartbeat increase
as she wonders if I can feel a lie through her nightgown.

It is a feeling I get
when ice-skating through the rising crackles of sunshine.

In sleep, there is safety.

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