I ended up with a bruise under
my chin. Concerned 'those'
assumptions would be made,
we told everyone I had fallen, dizzy.
What you and they did not see, was me,
stumbling for a chair, water in hand, skating
across rented tiles. Hip and chin against
floor, then gone.
A growl from my throat; the only
reason you stirred. My body starfished out,
a cluster of tanlines and rubbery white.
When I asked if you knew the number
for 999, my head sideways on a sofa cushion,
the glass rocking backwards near my open palm,
your wiped away your tears.
