Three Texts

Catherine Moran

House-Sitting

We climbed up on the roof.
It wasn't our roof,
Wasn't our beer
And when you spread my legs,
Went down on me
I felt I should explain
That was on loan too.

Morning

Strangers cross the street
with the authority of sunlight
on their backs.
The sky is so open
to making people
and things beautiful again.

After You Took Me to New York City,

— and showed me the tall buildings and hotel sheets,
gigantic haunted theaters with the plush red seats,
restaurants be-jewelled with antique chandeliers,
tear drop crystals hung from the ceiling
like tiny crying wedding cakes —

Me on my knees

Trying to thank you