Soothers & The Fifth by Donna Dallas

Soothers
Man on the moon

I await you      bittersweet    

come

let’s

begin with roll of your tongue

then a click click………….. what have they done to you poor thing

you say when you enter 

glowing animal eye

mmmm I say

man on the moon

I’ve missed you                blood red magic

melts skin into stars 

into sky velvet 

it feels like the softest suede       I’m succumbed……….. 

 

When you exit

no one sees

they never noticed

black sky

dark as a coffin

the plucked out

pock-mark hole

you only escaped for a 

tet-a-tet

now with your back to me 

I wait again


The Fifth
Are you married yet, you ask.  No, I say,

and you?  Somewhat, you reply. 

I ask you, what constitutes a marriage?  

Is this your marriage

 

for life or just speculative love?  No reply.

Children?  Have you ever heard of the

ten commandments, I inquire.  Do you

always plead the fifth? Dinner and dancing

 

consistently—does she suspect?  I suppose

you will say you love me and now that

you have induced me to love you, what can

I reply?  Seasons pass and nights churn the

 

saucy lives of two—or is it three?  My parents

love you.  You are a cozy fixture in my parlor

of thoughts.  I believe you love me, her, us,

this triad—triangle, the damnation of immorality

 

and yet it is the sweetest of all sugar that

I am to you.  And we go on—have gone on,

suspected, even seen.  Who cares anymore,

let them gossip deeper than a laundry basket

 

because we are, unfortunately, the dirty

laundry of society.  No man is an island

and no woman is every woman.  We are all

searching for something other than what we have

 

at home in the flannel sheets of a country

bedroom I know nothing about but somehow

imagine replacing a soft wife that holds you

to her still.  And maybe I am soft too, but

soft second and oh sometimes it really doesn’t

matter the order when you are in my arms,

my bed and when they ask—which they always

do, I take my heart in my hand and plead the fifth.


“I write tabu, I love dark and strange subject matter. I truly enjoy this niche. Some poems get tucked away for a while for fear they are too out there. Sometimes, I pull them back out and rear their ugly heads.”

Donna Dallas has appeared in a plethora of journals, most recently The Opiate, Beatnik Cowboy, Tribes, Horror Sleaze Trash and Fevers of the Mind.  She is the author of Death Sisters, her first novel published by Alien Buddha Press. Her chapbook, Smoke and Mirrors, launched in 2022 with New York Quarterly. Donna serves on the editorial team of NYQ. donnaanndallas@gmail.com @DonnaDallas15

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