What Us Is

We tight knit like fish scales

Segmented with intention

Bruised by devotion,

Happy to be hurt

joined by soft taupe hooks

And fleshy pearls.

We are earth on foot

Pretty clay angels

Wings tucked away

in our pocketbooks

with Doublemint and perfume.

You damn skippy

we still powder after we lotion,

wear slips on Sunday,

eat fish with spaghetti

and keep the oil in a

jar next to the stove.

We let it ride to the

pit of low

and hustle back before

the hot water runs out,

and trepidation leave us

high and dry.