N a p a
l m H e a
l t h
S p a
: R e
p o r
t 2 0
0 8
MELISSA WRAY
Elegance
My stockings
ripped near the crotch
$19 dress
even cheaper shoes
I drink a $30
glass of wine
at the NYC Four Seasons.
In the immaculate bathroom
knees and Gucci shoes
visible beneath a stall door—
a woman
gagging on her fingers
puking up her dinner.
Panic
Body spasming
secluded
in an inclined hospital bed
sucking for breath
through an oxygen mask,
selfishly,
I wanted him there
clutching my numbing hands
as the nurse sedated me with a needle.
After, I became
grateful
he was spared.
The
condom broke.
We
opted
for Plan B.
Later
that week
in the
laundromat bathroom
I found
blood
in my
underwear.
On our
way home
we found a tiny
bird
dead
too young to
have even formed feathers.
We
stopped
and silently
mourned.
He
makes his way slowly
dragging one
leg
one arm raised
at the elbow
his hand a
frozen claw
ribbons of
thick drool
stringing
from his
always-open mouth:
stuck strained
yellow grin.
He
approaches two small children
and softly pats
them on the head
their mother
smiles
and nods at him
as the children
cling to her
with wide
scared
curious
eyes.
About This Moment
As we were lying in bed
after making love,
our quick breaths
the only sound
in the dark room,
red curtains open to streetlamps
illuminating
the contours
of our naked bodies,
fingers
tracing
each other’s hot skin,
you asked,
“Can you write something
about
this
moment?”
We attempt
to exit
incognito,
suppressing
our glow,
does anyone
know
we just fucked?