Heavy Things

She’s always had this fetish
for heavy things that refuse
hold their weight.

Wanted to be under them
like chests and commitment and anchors
Sometimes we only acknowledge
the unbearable.

She appreciated her anchor
the most. Hanging from her
like an ornament.
She swore it was magic,
how it held her
still, in the mouth
of a growling sea.

Tried to work this magic
on old lovers
who never believed
in her power.
Made a jewelry box
of dried banana leaves.
where she keeps
the lips of women
who didn’t make good
on their promises.
Safety pinned them
to the pink shivering flesh.
Tied them to her anchor
Dared them to leave
and take flight.