Motel Nine

Come a little closer, darling.
I want to see your legs
just one last time,
at the moment
when you finally decide
to cross them.
I want to see you bat
his name from your eyes,
at the moment
when the tears spill
down your cheeks.
I want to see you clench
your fists on your hips,
at the moment
you taste the secrets
he should have never told you.
Come a little closer, darling.
I want to see you gag
on the greenest tea
that has been sweetened
with her name and soured
with his story, and all
the flowers you have chosen
to lay at the foot of cancer’s altar.
Come closer, darling,
we all bloom righteous love
and I want to see you turn sharp,
at the moment
when you shuffle your one o’clock
motel nine meeting, because
he isn’t quite fucking dead yet.

© Nicole Lyons 2018

6 thoughts on “Motel Nine

  1. Oh, my, breaking up is so hard to do, often not all at once.

    The title reminded me of an old motel I saw on a used-to-be busy highway left behind by the building of the Interstates. The neon sign had two letters not working: VIRGIN– MOTOR LODGE.
    It was the subject of laughter in Junior High.

    Liked by 1 person

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