by diy danna
It was June in the summer of 1972.
Patty felt the cool linoleum against her back
and the venomous spit evaporating from her cheek after Elvis cursed her name for the last time.
She turned her head and observed
the calming tiles in shades of green
reminding her of the green pop bottles
and greenstone carved by a Maori man
and the jade resting against a Chinese woman’s breast.
Patty swore when her baby was born next spring that she would forget she had ever loved Elvis.
She closed her eyes.
After the red and white camellias stopped blooming in their backyard she would walk barefoot down Magnolia and catch the next Trailway bus and give birth on a South Texas beach.
The baby’s head would be covered with mucus and sand and you could not see that the creature from her womb looked like a brown version of its father.
As Patty peacefully slept on the floor Elvis sat beside her and watched her secretly dream of her strange revenge with awe.
What kind of woman sleeps on a floor after fighting with a drunken stoned man?
This is a Valentine for women who had babies before Roe v. Wade.