adrienne maree brown told me so
by Crista Fusaro
1
if you obtain your unearthly lover at a drugstore,
pay at the back
where medicine is sold
no one will be there to stare
at shaking skin as plastic skims across a bare counter.
if you obtain your unearthly lover at a specialty store,
pay cash, withdraw
money if you must
erase any trace of your presence there
of what you sought and instantly bought.
free your fresh lover before getting home
let their loud packaging get lost in public waste.
oh! refuse a receipt, too.
they will not be returning.
2
once home, surrounded,
hide your soon-to-be faithful lover
bury them deep, deep in a bottom drawer
that shelters bikinis not yet worn.
suffocate them under a mountain of unwashed polyester
when tufts of snow settle on stone windowsills
when
when
when your only audience
is
is
is
a w h i t e t r e e.
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