SYD BREWSTER

SWEAT

I am the worst hotel maid in Amerika
Yes, that’s me. I sniff your sheets, flick
your dirty undies underneath the bed
I do what I want.
And in my home, I don’t bother to clean
after he leaves, and
I’m not quick to shower or wash or change
Things between me and that man,
became clear. It was lust, until it wasn’t
I wanted love, but the bed stains said
It was just sweat.

A Dead Body Gets Stiff

Leave it off the hook. Let the phone spirals
hang down in the way, just
how did the wires get so tangled?
That space between the wall and the table
that suspended in air feeling
you don’t know your own mind
she gives me light, she gives me a lift
that’s what you say about her, and
i won’t kick up dust about it
let it wash over me with sternness
two weeks later I’m still sat in my kitchen nook,
there, just
waiting. There in that corner of the room
my impatience grew
then dissipated
soared then
flattened

Syd Brewster is a Black American writer based in the Hudson Valley. Her writing has been featured in Sink Hollow, God’s Cruel Joke, and The Table Review. You can find her at sydbrewster.com and on Instagram @sydbrews