Wilmington Hotel • Kristin Peterson

we are in no Wilmington motel

we are beneath no Wilmington motel - we are pinked in shorts

we are not breaking a sweat - our panties do not face the street

we go home and we work it all out - she stays up late on stage

and I sleep inside me - we get itch cream inside the rose garden

we wear the nights down with red velvet curtains and monstrous lounges

we thrift outside pagan pride - we scheme to gain nothing - we scheme

- for a cup - of jasmine - for a cup - of amethyst

- we are so heavy with purchased meaning

- we avoid each other's eyes inside the heavyliddedness

of an occidental rock concert - we bless each other's hearts under the soaked umbrella - under the rain - under the stares of such southern folk

the southernmost folk - we are using our caucasian tape to hold the world up

- we are shoeless under this sudden southern pour

we are shoeless - skimming stones up blacktopped hills up escape routes

we are learning what it really means to bless another's heart

we are taxied home - we are swift door shut and locked - we are talked out runnels dried under hardwood floor and sleeping bags - we are in/between

two stately buildings - like cowboys - facing East and facing West

poised to draw a biker's fleet against a biker's fleet - but the cascades

frighten every fleet away - we fotograph our knees - shelly buys our drinks

i am dripping in the misogyny of the place - the fuchsia on billiards

the waxed abdominals on plush screens - the faerie lights glyphing over

a scene: a blue-most fountain - an empty concrete dance floor - a triplet

of young lesbians chittering at the gaffs of the skirtless and sweatered stranger a triplet of young lesbians alert at the emphatic new-found woman

pleasured to be heeled - unfettered in wig purchases - unspun in identity convinced not one of us will forget her - unforgotten by rulebook - by law

and i promise – i bless this promise - that i will do it all - this forgetting business i will forget the disrespect to balance – I will dispel the swift occultation of the becoming a woman - and ask you questions and questions

that will pressure you to find the right answer - the answer where it turns out everyone waits outside

by Kristin Peterson, from somnieeee