by p. hodges adams
my coat, where it sweeps down my shoulders, is the embodiment of an adjective used to describe both
night and a cascading river over rocks. the collar is second in arrogance only to the upwards tilt of my
chin. i wear it to defy myself. i leave the all-seeing buttons undone so the dark fabric frames my body like
a painting. icy air can strike at me now, in my collarbones and sternum, but my black coat is too
disdainful to admit it.
this jacket of rapids and streams was a gift from the one man who drowned himself. i wear my river of a
black coat like he wears intoxication: as armor. i put my thin wrists in the pockets. my arrogant throat
and i are going to war dressed in nothing but an open waterfall with blue lining.