Barbed Wire

Can you recall the night? I can, with grasshoppers
        on my diaphragm. You, a drugstore cowboy, me, one of the lucky girls.





We met outside the speakeasy, my slip in static and wrinkles. It was the next morning
        I made a proposal, concentrating on your five o’clock shadow—
darling, our red hands were caught
in barbed wire, but
                this is the last temptation,







dollars stuffed
in waxy bags.
                Do you recall the night? I fumbled with the keys, a tiny fist shaking, grasshopper

        stuck in my throat.