another side of paradise

I take him by the collar of his shirt

the way strong women do, twisting

cotton in my palm until it blossoms

out of my fingers like an awakening 

of spring: the season. he is writhing under 

me, his feet paddling like he is trying to

float in an entire ocean:

Please, let me go

No, I said. No. Can you hear me now?

I have you in my hands like my breasts in

yours one afternoon in the dark, where

you think no one has seen you. I saw you.

Our eyes meet like four falcons waiting 

on prey, dancing around it. He wants to

look down the way he does, like he is

so ashamed for what he did but he is

salivating now with his fear. He is

looking at me, not tsktsktsk-ing 

with my refusal, and I am finally 

loud, watching a movie at Multiplex 

Cinema, an audience with me, loud,

too, laughing at the scene, applauding.

Hollering. Stomping their own feet.