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.