Vers Libre

I want to describe my desire to loosen

without any of the usual trappings

of loosening. I cannot take off my coat.

I cannot take down my hair;

I like to wear it tight against the back

of my neck in a claw, a small density

of meaning. I can’t unscrew, or screw,

like I’m supposed to, supposition

being a form of erotics, or so they say:

a strewing, splaying out, overpaying

for a pair of pantyhose that I can bleed

straight into. Overplayed as an image

as images get. The burden of the poem

is to refrain: all abstinence, all sex.