Infirmity

Sagging breasts go well with sagging faces.
They keep us in our proper places.

I put a hand in my deep pocket,
Pulled a wad of change and a golden locket.

The coins fell clinking on the wooden floor.
Three rolled across the room and under the door.

I handed the locket to the lovely sagging breasts,
Got on my knees to pick up the mess.

I pushed the change into a dusty pile,
Then picked through them while she just smiled.

I reached for the doorknob while still on my knees,
Pulled a muscle in my arm, breathed dust and sneezed.

I forgot the quarters, rose to my feet,
Brushed the dust from my pants, tried to look neat.

She looked at her locket, then asked me, “Why
can’t we just go home to our bed, lie down and cry?”