Villanelle for March 24
My throat has been tight for a week,
my judgment severely impaired.
When I see him, I find I can’t speak.
 
Though his stubble is rough on my cheek,
there aren’t any tears to be spared —
my throat has been tight for a week.
 
He gets wilder; my motions are weak.
He asks me if I’m unprepared.
When I see him, I find I can’t speak.
 
When he chokes me, there’s little technique —
he squeezes, no warning. I’m scared.
My throat has been tight for a week.
 
Now he’s finished. He kisses my cheek
to acknowledge the act we just shared.
When I see him, I find I can’t speak.
 
I’m numb as I walk down the street.
I don’t know when I’ll be repaired.
My throat has been tight for a week.
When I see him, I find I can’t speak.
Kristy Carpenter
Published in Issue 40