Smoke and Mirrors

Caki Wilkinson

Back then, girls teased their hair, big bangs 

 like loofahs（丝瓜） on their foreheads. Plumes. 

Somebody spiked the punch, they said, 

 as if they'd wanted plain old punch. 

They shared their earrings, weed, and jeans, 

 wore underwear with satin（缎子） bows, 

 and danced like sex. The nights wore on 

 in shots and smoke - and on and on. 

Back then, before the silly me 

 of retrospect（回顾，追溯）, they reeked of yes, 

 diffusing through the bar to go 

 their separate ways the moment stay 

awake or stick together seemed 

 impossible - demanding later 

 in the tone of frowning, Tell 

 me everything. They saw their share 

of bunk beds（双层床）, ancient futons（蒲团）, floors, 

 and dudes whose moves were easily 

 excused before the sunlight cut 

 through dirty panes（窗格） where, sitting up 

like damsels in a cuckoo clock, 

 they smoothed their tops and balled their socks, 

 said, This we didn't do, assured 

 what's missing isn't—can't be—true.