Rattle and Tilt

Rattle and Tilt

 

“get well soon.”

she said.

 

Walking the street

as if never tumbled,

scanning the ground

for stray pill bottles,

or ancient sips of whiskey.

 

Keeping her head

tilted down slightly

helps with hiding,

that extra little something.

 

Another dead giveaway.

 

And the taste

of cinnamon lingers,

for the fortunate only,

cloves and course pepper,

better suited

for a girl

in such circumstances.

 

And the circumference of the city

swallows her whole,

as the long day

turns over

to an even longer night.

 

Exposing the belly of the snake

and the rattle of its tail.