Paper People in the Fall

I.
he sees chinese letters
in her folding fingers,
sees shadows wander
in the shade of her bones.

his hands run short miles
down her legs and tear at
the screaming skin upward again.

he pulls at her hair with his teeth--
crunches and crushes gritty strands--
beneath gray cotton sheets.

they waited for winter to pass.

II.
she watches paper eyelids
bend as he blinks,
feels their tiny brushes
when he runs his tongue along
her jawbone.

her thumbs press the skin
between his hipbones and abdomen.
her nails draw slight red creases.

behind his voice,
she can only hear the dryer ticking
with dry buttons or the rain itching
the cloudy day.

they waited for winter.

-- published in The Plum Creek Review, Oberlin College Student Journal (Number 41, Spring 1989)

Copyright Louise Robertson