Poetry: Who's to Say Why We Falter in the Night

By: Susanne Krenz

You stand and pose, drink in hand. I’m here, I’m ready. I take your picture. Then I take 30 more. Flash in your eyes, flesh on my thighs. Specks of light rain from the ceiling and dart around my body; you grab at them. I like it better when you’re rough. If I could be anyone, who would you make me into?

Your mouth tastes like fury. You pull off my dress. We smell great; we sparkle, we gloat. Show me a fever dream, just like the olden days. Sticky. Needy. Breathless. On all fours. 

We dance naked in the living room. We laugh. We grind. We despair on top of each other. We’re lovers. We’re allies. We’re lost at sea. But I won’t let them call us crazy. It’s the world that has gone mad, not us. 

Own me; I don’t want to carry myself.

Break me, so I can make sense of the pieces.

I’m not strong. Why did you think I was made of marble?

Spine pressed into the sheets, I don’t care if the pit in my stomach is yours or mine. I want to dissolve under your weight and seep like water into the ground. If you thought I could save you, I’ll take the blame. But I can do nothing for you, nothing but kiss your grief until I’m empty again. I get a text; it says: can I please help you?

I have to be on my way.