a song that plays when the coin slides
down the slot in the bar jukebox
next to the glasses emptied too fast,
a song that plays as you wash my back and we waste
water in the shower. Play the song for me
in the car with my fingers outstretched through
the moonroof testing the bit-too-cold air. Reach
for my thigh, keep me warm as Ursa Minor
sprinkles wayward willow leaves on us
like confetti on newlyweds. Remember
how that old song went.
Anne Marie Wells (She | Her) of Hoback Junction, Wyoming is a queer poet, playwright, and storyteller navigating the world with a chronic illness.