Date Night Overdue It’s December, nighttime, but every business is open and spitting out bodies, music, the smell of salt. In the doorway, a man plays a green-faced guitar and scratches the chin of the dog sleeping on his toes. You’re walking off the cocktails, the pie-sized crème brûlée we’ll be laughing about until tomorrow. The feathers are everywhere and no one knows which building they poured from. Stuck in every record shop rug, coating the curb strip, in the hair of the woman who asks me to take her picture— and her smile, so unbridled, I am envious. We stumble into a gallery too bright for evening. I am hot-cheeked and wine-faced, keeping myself from touching the thick acrylic, stitched wool, crawling in with the sculptures and need. I think about asking someone to take our picture in front of a canvas or bare wall but we are sweating the lining of our coats, rushing outside into the draped lights and stray feathers, our held-hands crammed into the pocket of my coat.
Beeper Peddle is a writer and healer living on the East Coast. She lives with her partner and their beloved soul puppy. Beeper writes about sorrows, lies, and deep loves. When you read her work, you will dip down into her heart and end up in all manner of body parts. Should you find yourself reflected in these words, it is merely coincidence; however, it does not surprise her you share the same heart. Find her at bethpeddle.com and @beeperpeddle on Twitter and Instagram
Chrissy Martin (she/her) is a Visiting Assistant Professor of Poetry at Centenary College of Louisiana. She holds a PhD in poetry from Oklahoma State and an MFA in Poetry from Columbia College Chicago. She is the Poetry Editor and a founding editor for Arcturus. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Harpur Palate, Cherry Tree, Crab Creek Review, and Carve Magazine. Find her at chrissymartinpoetry.com.
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