52 Pick-Up

-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.