"The Fall" by Tara Miller
One October
I anticipated for the first time
falling
in love
after too many days
of loving men
after manufactured, cliché nights
in backseats
front seats of cars
sweaty, thinking
I was sure
limbs entangling
hard, too hard
fingernails
etching his name into me
unrelenting
me, positioned there until
her fingertips
traced explanations
skin they touched
ached with certainty.
