I can pull the film over my legs
I can model it around the living room
for feedback, wait for
the “Yes, girl!”
the, “That’s it!”
I’m sad we will never
be together in a room
just the same way.
All of us followed
a photo of our hearts
dragged by a string
into the dark.
All of us had our arms out,
hands reaching.
What to do when it’s just
us and the photograph?
When we call out to
our sisters and they are
not there?
It’s easy to make your own
light.
It’s harder to face yourself
alone in the dark.
The movie ends and the
tape spits itself out.
“Again?”
Again.
We lean on one
another.
The screen moves
across our faces.
If you took
a photo from
afar, we all
look like the
same daughter.
Maybe there are holes in
all of us, just like
the Real Slim Shady.
It’s only a matter
of how you fill those holes
before somebody puts a hole in you
and all of a sudden you’re bleeding
out on the carpet of a hotel room,
amiright ladies? Ha.
What we mean to say is that
she tried going on a few dates.