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Brian Andrew: “I’m sorry, but I had to”

December 3, 2018 by PBQ 1 Comment

You were
in the shower
when I started
setting off
the smoke alarms,
screaming fire.
Fire. FIRE!

Running to
the door, I
started pounding
and kicking
and hollering,
feverishly
hurling your name
against the wood.

You flew out
of that bathroom
like you had wings,
sopping wet
and shaking
as the towel
fell and
crumpled at
your feet.

I’m sorry.
It was such
a dirty trick
to see you
naked –

not in the flesh,
but in the fear.

Filed Under: Issue 98, Poetry 98

Reader Interactions

Comments

  1. Bonnie Billet says

    February 5, 2019 at 1:51 pm

    gives me chills, may I never meet you in person

    Reply

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