by Meghan Dunn
When he asks me if I’m ready,
I don’t even know enough
to know what he means
but I know enough
not to say so. We lie
on his unmade bed
in the basement room,
credits rolling on the movie
we’d watched. His choice.
His hand’s at my waist, then on
the part of my belly I fold my hands
over to conceal in photos.
Last updated September 23, 2022