I dust my walnut furniture and think of you. Not because my husband doesn’t love me; he does. His soft cheek rests on mine and his ear dabs at the side of my face seeking the warm red nest of my mouth. Who do you fantasize about? And I remember you, the one I didn't love, gray smudge of whisker dust, tufts of hair over a starched white collar. How did you tie that perfect triangular knot? When I see the candor of my husband’s body sprawled across summer sheets, why can’t I release you from my lips? His arm pulls me to his side and we roll east with the world toward lunar dusk.
Jacalyn Shelley has been published in several journals including Sugar House Review, Dunes Review, Main Street Rag, San Pedro River Review, and several anthologies including Welcome to the Resistance Poetry as Protest. She received three Pushcart Prize nominations in the past three years. To read more of her poems go to JacalynShelley.com.