Ex-Lover as Marie Antoinette
Your arm hangs gleaming
alongside wads of tassled satin dress,
above hooped and laddered whalebone
and minute ruched shoe-tips. I have seen
that white in the sun
on your stomach
and on your thighs.
I have watched, mornings, your breath lift your chest,
your heart shake it—in part. Now, your skin
is dimmed with tulle. Your lips
are a fluke
and its reflection,
sounding depths I have known.
Women dab ochre into your cheeks,
smooth your hair streetdust-white
with lead. They say
they’ve draped stolen diamonds
around your neck. They say
other fingers come
to unclasp them.
Bio: Jessica Hudgins is currently earning her MFA at Johns Hopkins University. Her work appears or is forthcoming in The Adirondack Review, Portland Review, Glassworks, and elsewhere.