SensibleUnsensible

In the brandy glass light of the beside lamp
Fluted like the hips of some ancient fertility goddess
She thumbs the satin elastic coral straps of her underpinnings
Over the rounded promontories of diminutive shoulders
Into the hollows of her collar bone
With a muffled snap that fills the plush, padded cell of Room 656.

On close examination, in the amber drip of the bureau mirror
Her body seems a half-formed thing
A slight, stripling sally, ribs and elbows sticking at opposing angles
Who fills a midnight dress like rolling choir crescendo
Of deep wine laughter, subversive mouth corner smiles, and music unplaceable

She tries to imagine what she’ll look like in ten years
But no image will come, no beginning and no ending
She tips an ash into an empty water glass next to a “No Smoking Please” plaque on the desk

The barest strip of lace borders an unremarkable breast
Barely a shadow at her sternum
She twists at the waist to examine the bruises
incriminating thumb marks at her hips and waist
To the small of her back and the nape of her neck

Whatever is out of place she’ll put right lock by lock
Auburn curls, burgundy lips, swelling lashes, and the hug of her midnight dress
All removed with frenzied, primal, violent discord
Returned in unremarked silence
Alone in a room that snuffs the life out of sound and time in a susurrus hush of dignified understatement
Alone in a room that’s paid for till 11 a.m.
Five minutes from the crack of a closing door
The solitude is stifling

The liquescent blue of her eyes streaked with ceremonial ash
Impossible to tell if she’s been crying
In the buzzing of her head she’s not sure
She averts her eyes as she finds the bathroom
She’ll look for her shoes
Before the walk to the train