“Night of Last Flute” (Tidal Basin Review)

A poem by Amanda Montell

There were chandeliers around each pair ofScreen Shot 2015-08-09 at 9.09.17 AM
pallid ankles
in the room that smelled like so many
cinnamon cigars.
Glottal laughter
echoed off the champagne flutes
like hail.
My pointed cocktail ring was
the Chrysler Building.
The staircase and my windpipe were strung
with nectarine pearls.

But in that Upper West alley, I traded him
every last crystal
for one splinter from the pier.

Originally published in Tidal Basin Review

Share: