May 2022

by Alison Miller

Behind the black and white

polka dot curtain sits a shelf

of tiny shoes that fall onto

our heads when we fuck.

I hold onto it with my fists

like I did twenty years ago

in the mall where we met.

Clarks then, Timberlands

shifting in their stacks, you

behind me in the stockroom.

Now velcro Vans and soft-

soled Chuck Taylors, bump

down my back, the Back

in 10 Minutes sign I gave

you suctioned to the door.

I hold you until you slip

out. We share cool down

kisses in which love is

exchanged and swallowed.

Pulling away pecks promise

we haven’t gone too far

for me to step back out

into the sun and for you

to return to your register.