-for the queen of hearts, may you escape the deck.
52 Pick Up
It didn't offend you, reading hip to hip while he swam twenty feet away, why would it? Wasn't that the distance from us to him while he slept as you kissed me, the first time in three seasons.
You carefully laid out your reasons for being with him - all jokers and instructional cards for how to play 'war' or 'go fish,' you turned the jets on every fifteen minutes so bubbles hid our hands intertwined - Miss Mary Mack or cat's cradle style fingers knitting webs.
If he stirred, walked to the balcony he would have seen our bodies quaking open like the Grand Canyon birthing Colorado's river flowing through three states
does the mouth of this feral stream begin where our legs end?
do we become Atlas with patriarchy balanced on our lips, where is the softness below the weight? our organs flex into stone sky breaks open like a pomegranate heeding a storm rides near - jump ship, or turn off the jets - he can see from up there as you shuffle fifty-two
you tell me to cut the deck - I throw them.
Let him find us instead and rebuild himself laying the Queen on the ground where he insists she belongs, let the earth support her again, he'll have separate quarters surrounded by Jacks, the Aces will be high, deuces low - castle barricaded by face cards, so when he looks out he knows he is superior, oh king, let us stand and admire your crown, pull that sword from your head let's see how tall you stand fuck the Queen of hearts for leaving you have the spade outside on her back.