by Nicole Callihan

Nicole Callihan

after we emptied the house of men
we let the curtains grow dirty
and tore numbered pages off the wall
I carried a stick Heather a brush
we ripened in our weeks-worn swimsuits
and sucked our mouths raw with fireballs
on the most special night of the year
we’d get port wine cheese from Kroger’s
and make a pallet on the floor
lock the door dip our fingers
into mother’s Fuzzy Navel as Miss North Carolina
floated from one side of the stage to the other
she was our dream one day we too could have
a safety-pinned sash and talent shaved legs hope
we would be far away so grown and loved

Last updated November 23, 2022