Make-up Sex
You are undressing me quickly.
For the past week, this fight has been our part-time job.
Before we made it to this bed, we sat for hours at the dining room table,
flowers drooping between us and the trivets not holding anything warm.
At the table someone said this might be over.
At the table someone said I don’t know if you want me to be honest.
Outside, the sprinkler fought against the drought.
The dog whined to come in.
Finally, we stacked our compromise like coins
with two different faces. Our hands touched and we went upstairs.
And here we are in our joy. The windows are open--the night
looks like what a child does when she has only black construction paper left.
She takes her white crayon and draws
stars and stars and stars.
For the past week, this fight has been our part-time job.
Before we made it to this bed, we sat for hours at the dining room table,
flowers drooping between us and the trivets not holding anything warm.
At the table someone said this might be over.
At the table someone said I don’t know if you want me to be honest.
Outside, the sprinkler fought against the drought.
The dog whined to come in.
Finally, we stacked our compromise like coins
with two different faces. Our hands touched and we went upstairs.
And here we are in our joy. The windows are open--the night
looks like what a child does when she has only black construction paper left.
She takes her white crayon and draws
stars and stars and stars.
September / October, 2022
Jennifer Manthey's first book, The Fight, is forthcoming from Trio House Press in 2023. Her poems have appeared in places such as Prairie Schooner, Calyx Journal, Best New Poets, Hayden's Ferry Review, Rhino, and Tinderbox Poetry Journal. Her work has received support from Bread Loaf Writers Workshops and MVICW. She teaches and lives in Minneapolis, MN.
Art: Madge Evers. Solar Wind. Mushroom spores on paper.