Mademoiselle Paralysée

By: Kailey Tedesco 

The mousy lady standing quietly

in the middle of the room...

Doesn’t have much to say, just moans:

“Lighten up, dark eyes.”

She’s devoured by all the chattering. 

Opened mouths:

Each of them inebriated with Scotch

or lipstick fumes.

She’s sober; insatiable,

But it’s not you.

You see her all dressed up:

Floral and a pearl.

A boisterous place to go,

Hoists herself on toes

To see if predestination

was so kind

As to let her premeditated, 

thoughtful script

Play out.

Act One Scene One: Socialization Time--

Velvety red lips part.

The tongue’s a stage 

And nothing; An obscure aperture;

And a dry heave.

All this talk of epithets and space-time

and she’s paralyzed

For fear of error.