a poem a day for a year #117

by Amy Turn Sharp


when you are not sure
what will soothe your beast
honey
or rough sex
or chilled vodka
back scratches
when your beast takes all your love
and eats it
only to become violently sick
on the beige carpet


on these dark days
I suggest dancing
dancing with your arms held up
hip shimmies
dangerous grins
your arms in the sky
with your heart exposed
like a prize
a reward for better behavior