She ran rings around him.
I amused myself,
arranged my bands of toys,
jumped through hoops of blue smoke
like a circus poodle,
joined up coffee mug stains on the table.
Doodled chains of precious metals’ molecules.
The electric ring glowed, fingers curled off the lids of cans.
I became a snake and rings coiled around my body.
I became a bell that sounded deep and powerful.
A velvet curtain pulled back to reveal the show.
I assumed the crucifix till my shoulders trembled,
looped gold earrings down my swan neck.
I knitted tubes with circular needles
determined to cover my limbs.
My thin bird legs were tied with metal.
One day the man left a ring.
The man left his mark with a ring,
like a tender woody breve from a recorder,
a round benefaction from a wealthy land,
but it was duly wrapped up in brown paper
as if it were fish and chips not someone’s heart.
Baffled, it pumped at the post office counter
till it was stamped unceremoniously
with a red circle and a date.

(First publishede in Avatar Review, Issue 18, June 2016)

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