Persona poem: Jezebel Remembering

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It was like the first time
your hand touches a married
man’s thigh; or when you lean
over the velvet rope, right
before you touch the painting;
or the moment you slip
the lipstick from the shelf
to your purse; when you cover
your crying child’s mouth
and say Shut up; it was the moment
you join your husband’s enemy
on the ledge while he smokes,
and you place your hand
at his back, then push.

 

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