smoke curls
Ron Androla
she’s putting her silver bracelets on
standing beside the bed
her arm’s lifted up
like a german salute
she is not looking at me, i’m
mostly asleep (she looks like a man
smug
after an act
of fucking) she’s puffing
on her cigarette
smiling tightly
like a god
pleased with sacrifice
whipping me with a kiss
she leaves for her other lovers
she owns many people
she’s gonna write a novel someday