Fitting Room

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Fitting Room


An undeniable thrill, first chill 

of August's false fall or that week 


in early April suggesting the thaw 

just a week ago you wouldn't let yourself


imagine, as if the world left unlocked

the changing room and you fumbled in 


to catch the curve of her bare back,

turned. Before you back out the door


again, sure that something this unashamedly

good is a sure sign you aren't meant


to be here, tell me, how would it

change things were you to find out


it wasn't an accident, that she knew

the whole time it was you fumbling


behind her towards the fitting room

door, that she wanted you to see her


this way? Would you finally quit apologizing?

Would you maybe, even, make love?


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