DESIRE

It was our third viewing of “Streetcar.”
Funny, even though I was captivated
I knew something was wrong.
Way before the credits spun.
He bolted out of the theatre ahead of me.
Glare from the marquee lights hurt my eyes.
I watched his back as he stepped off the curb.
Not turning, not waiting.

I could still feel Brando inside,
Yelling to Stella in my head.
Hey, wait up. I trotted,
but he still didn’t turn around.
I thought we were going for a drink.
He stepped into street. Car swerved.
I grabbed the plaid sleeve, his face distorted,
Lips closed and tight, hard like stone.

Only a metallic taste in my mouth, no spit.
His eyes flashed. He hates me, I thought.
He pushed my hand away,
I fisted the air between us.
Don’t you dare walk away from me.
The kiss of his nose against my knuckles
Finished before the cracking sound hit my ears.
The wounded yelp of the stunned beast.

Everywhere was red.
Animal sounds were mine now.
Knees to pavement, I cried out.
I told you not to walk away, baby.