by Terri Watrous Berry
“The important thing is where
she lets you put it.”
Guffaw, guffaws all around, and
her cheeks ignite, burning the same
color as in passion’s flush — full house,
four of a kind at her husband’s weekly
game — all straights, kings high.
Now the air is thick with the smell of
smoke beer and betrayal — Laugh,
little lady, laugh! — and so she does,
disgusting herself, feeling herself betray
every woman she has ever known.
All the while silently wondering,
through bared teeth and trembling
tears, if a man sees a woman
as demeaned — demeaned by
a sexual act with him — is she?
***
Terri Watrous Berry’s work has appeared over four decades in anthologies, journals, magazines, and newspapers, poetry this year included by, among others, Last Stanza Poetry Journal, Gnashing Teeth, Peninsula Arts Magazine, and Pure Slush for the final volume in their Life Span series, Death. She is a Michigan septuagenarian. Onward and upward.
Comments