Member Poem

That first time, twinkling
party lights looped the first
crowd – the one I heard
like Thom Yorke, like beats
are words breathing
down my neck.
 
The door opened for you.
You hovered so close – 
so close because you liked
my neck, the way the chain
fell around it, the spangle
balancing like a pendulum.
 
The way you darted when
I came downstairs with
the tall one I didn’t know,
and the way you leaned in –
We’ve met before – you
said – made every drink
 
room-spinning, triple shot
like your hand on my back-
small made the lights go out.
No need for crowds, no need
for lights – what every party
wants: each other, all and only
 
                        til the beat skewed
                                    scrawling
                                                from our wreck.
 
The last time in the last crowd
the door never opened because
            you were not there.
                        The party fell off of its hinges.
                                    I let the bedraggled feathers crawl away
                                               tried to pick up the pieces of
 
                                                                                                            my self.