Down Like a Shot

falling into unearthed light, or something like that is
who I was last night. you brought me
a drink you didn’t know the name of & told
me I “could get it.” you, not the drink, which I downed,
even though it was my 9th of the night, the drink
not you. dancehall. always, dancehall. a manner of move
ment learned & not easily lost so I
wind my hips anyway & something is
happening to you. “you bout to start some shit,” & I
say, “good.” not because it would be. I haven’t been touched
in a while. “don’t start something you can’t finish,” is maybe
the worst advice I’ve ever heard, as you drop a handful
of my ass, thudding down a small flight of stairs. that’s
what I am. a small flight of stairs. a small
flight, down.