Reservoir
by Taneum Bambrick
I.
Where did you meet her
he asked.
By the park fence, the weed
whacker
she was towering her hair
fingers
teasing out dead grass.
It was her job, she
shoveled the bathroom
snakes in half.
II.
I didn’t know how.
Stained glass
at the peak of the house.
Crouched in
her attic room. Wood & wire.
Insulation
stapled with tapestries.
I put my leg between her legs.
I could.
I didn’t want to be
a boy sliding
off her bra
with one hand.
III.
First time
both ways
burning the end on a short string—
thinking
I only have a little left of
what
IV.
She cut a flower from
the yard
when she left
before me.
It’s the same when anyone leaves
their handwriting.
It’s the same.
She hasn’t.
I feel she’s done a bad thing.
V.
When I hear your name
she said
I think
of your wrists.
This made lake.
As empty as
water gets.