The Cast

I’m halfway through a glass of cheap white wine

watching the rain make a mess of the line

at the bus stop. A girl wipes a dry eye

for a free ride, and I don't even sigh.

I remember that July, the heat like a weight,

and the way I decided to play with my fate.

I wrapped my wrist in stolen medical tape

just to see if he’d notice the shape

of a girl who was broken. It was a lie,

but he carried the groceries and didn't ask why.

The adhesive stayed sticky and gray for a week.

I liked the power of being that weak.