A Cheap Hotel
It’s not time so you say
I sweat cold, clammy
that Dallas boiling night.
You roll a dollar and nose your way
to the nightstand, fingers cut thin.
Again you tell me it’s not time,
your breasts ponderous upon my bare chest,
a whistling snort through a dollar bill
turned our world inside out.
Now you say it is time
to powder my intentions.