You're Fine

Stephanie Kapinos

It’s simple: just shut your eyes, fingers to wrist
Kiss my inner elbow and shutter your mind.
Blood cell count traded in for plane tickets
The wrong angel was sent, it’s not time

For goodbye. Cold creeps under the blankets
From the window sill, from your fingers,
Onto the tip of my nose, into our sex
Surrounds us like the sound of crickets.

When did it arrive? Has it always been here?
My heartbeat fainter with each palpitation
Picture me in photos, not the mirror
Turn the dial from my winces, new station.

Entrap my body, pretend there’s no anguish,
Stage One. It’s simple: just caulk the conscious.

All material on this site is copyright of Stephanie Kapinos McClintick unless otherwise indicated. This includes, but is not limited to, poetry, fiction, nonfiction, criticism, reviews, and images. Distribution or copying of this material is strictly prohibited without written permission from the owner. © 2006