The Last Place

Let me be first to beg forgiveness.
I draw back the curtain, past dusk.
They are gathering to throw pebbles
and paper cups, and their laughter
seizes the window frame and shakes.
Give me a moment to collect myself.
Let me be first to open the door
as I once tugged my skirt’s unstitched
hem to cover my kneecap’s lucky
domino: I mean the opposite.
Whatever you see me do, know I mean
the next thing you think of, far away,
far gone. I would make no gesture
to anger …