Time is like headlights. We mistake it for stars.
Not wanting to tell you—I do. And nothing—
not the vodka on the plane, nor the sound
of my suitcase rolling me in
can seduce my shames
to silence.
On the roof you tell me
you could love me. Your hands
stretch my dress, that hot white lace.
Is this what it means to love you?
To smile for a week’s pleasure,
and submit to the long after,
a decade-long goodbye. At turns,
I want to throw myself
in front of the stars.
To Tell the Truth
Tess Congo’s work has appeared in Publisher’s Weekly, PANK magazine, Curlew Quarterly, Luna Luna Magazine, Bowery Gothic, and the anthology Ripe (forthcoming). She’s been the recipient of the Frederick Hyde Hibberd Scholarship, the Colie Hoffman Prize, and scholarship at the Fine Arts Work Center in Provincetown. She earned her MFA in poetry from Hunter College.