red booth

Juanita's getting tired of the late days
and short nights. She knows better 
than to trust the sky to tell her the way 
to the bottom of the sea--understands
 
an angel needs cold wings in order to fly.
I like wide open spaces, she says, enough 
room to make the really big mistakes. 
Her braid falls over one eye, she’s a punk 
 
rock Veronica Lake pulling me across 
the room with a promise--she whispers 
two small lies and I thank gravity 
for dragging me down from the mountain. 

- Alex Stolis