That first morning after her divorce
\nshe burns her floral apron, the lilac shoes
\nwith stiletto heels, the kumquat blouse, a cape<\/p>\n
of steel blue. She rummages through a box marked Summer,
\npulls free the orange bikini, sands of Newport Beach glitter <\/p>\n
on her fingers. She adds huaraches to the pile, caresses
\nthe slit neck of the caftan, the bell sleeves imprinted <\/p>\n
with patterns that once filled her with desire. She combs the drawers,
\nthick with night silks, grabs the grey necks of cashmere turtles, <\/p>\n
the hems of sequined peasants, scoops bandeaux, tanks, halters.
\nShe nearly misses contentment, tossed forgotten over the back of the chair, <\/p>\n
tired from excessive wear. She plucks grace from the wardrobe, bitter
\nwith pearls of denial, tosses in the worn out boots, soles walked through, <\/p>\n
skin of remittance clinging to the inside. The cropped denim imaginings
\nand early pea coat silences try to hide their folds in dark closet,<\/p>\n
but she rips them free. That morning after her divorce, she strikes
\nthe match against her naked iron thigh, licks the flame across her lips, <\/p>\n
makes promises, tattoos a glowing coal with her new name.
\nThe smoke rises, a ball gown stretching its satin arms to the sky.<\/p>\n
Published in:
\nThe Comstock Review
\nFall\/Winter 2015<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
That first morning after her divorce she burns her floral apron, the lilac shoes with stiletto heels, the kumquat blouse, a cape of steel blue. She rummages through a box marked Summer, pulls free the orange bikini, sands of Newport Beach glitter on her fingers. She adds huaraches to the pile, caresses the slit neck … <\/p>\n