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Your Body Behind You

 

You see her in her back yard, spray painting heels red, dousing

them with glitter

 

You see him in his backyard, unwrapping a pit bull from black plastic, dousing

him with bleach.

 

 

You, it appears, can be

in two places at once

days apart. Leave half

your body behind you.

 

 

You can still smell the spray paint

days later, you wonder where

she took the heels & why-

 

You can still smell the bleach, the rot

days later, you wonder how

a pit bull ended up black bagged

in a pile of clothes down the block, & who-

 

& what will he do with the bones

& why her light is always on so late 

into the night into the morning, why

you haven't seen her in days.

 

you find a rotten structure at the end of a pier,

you find a sneaker that might fit you

on the curb, a row of desaturated nipples

peer out from a black trash bag besides.

 

 

 

When we move through the world 

we leave ourselves behind us.

When I left you, I left myself behind.

 

 

 

You walk out on the pier.

You are rickety & you are passing by

pairs of red heels left behind, 

they glitter, full of tiny moons.

 

You see her running to the end.

the pier, reed heels remain.

Every hollow thud of her feet, you

see her pounding to the very edge, 

the rotten structure, your heart

pounds as each heel hits 

every rung of the ladder shooting up up up 

from the roof.

glitters & she's gone.

 

Red heels remain.

 

 

 

You wonder if she made it all the way to the moon.

You wonder if you'll ever see her again.

You wonder if that dog is still running somewhere, 

bones still inside skin.

 

If you could look out the corner of 

your eye, just so, you could see her

at every step, running,

moons streaming from her heels,

forever.