Happy International Women’s Day!

In the night you left me roadside, scraped knees,

alone with the moon and frost air to freeze.

Lies spilled from your flowered devil tongue.

You advance on me like a predator,

silent, deadly, smiling, without remorse.

—

You always held too tight, pressing the air

out of my lungs, making me see sea salt,

blood red glitter and hate wrapped around

my chest. Melt into milieu, you’re a snake

that lies in meadows of tall grass, in wait.

Years pass, you brag online about a day

in March, the eighth. Outside cold spring rain falls,

does it cleanse you of me, this date, a mark

on your calendar, bright red? Do you reflect

on slamming my head into the car door?

——

I decided to try and use iambic pentameter for this but I haven’t tried to do this in a long time so thoughts on that aspect would be helpful too!!

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