Ode to My Boyfriend’s Wife

she holds my hand when we are
introduced at a neighbor’s party
her palm is light and dry as sandpaper
I cannot tell if she can feel my trembling
her eyes catch the candlelight, glow orange

I see her at the Quik-Stop parking lot
she is small next to the station wagon
she steps as if weightless
transferring bags of apples to the backseat
as if she is about to take flight
I wave but she doesn’t remember me

I taste her mouth on him, smell where her
small lotioned hands have tied his tie
ironed the crease into his pants
he doesn’t speak of her
I go through his wallet and find
photos of their wedding
she was a swan and he a black dog

when she visits my dreams
she is winged carrying a sword
as she floats above me I seize her
hair to bring her face to mine
she cuts me in half
and then sews the halves shut
with her teeth

I lay there and hope she will at least
touch me with her bare feet
she flies up a mountain and crouches
in a tree next to a gate of pearl
her eyes yellow and quiet