because i saw you
i stopped to say hello &
ask about your wife.

because i ‘looked so pretty’
you pushed your tongue
into my mouth

because you ‘couldn’t help it’
you held me in place,
your hands are mitts of history

because i am full of fire
i pushed you to the ground
and raised my pretty fist

Elizabethanne Spiotta is living the good life; writing and raising her 3 sons in the Hudson Valley. She has been published in Chronogram and is thrilled to have a poem in The Poetry Distillery.