Go back to the start,

before the loneliness of this two a.m. mating season carried you home:

             watch the bruise on your thigh shrink and disappear from your skin

             starve the sideshow alley clowns, take back the deal with the night
Go back to the start,

before the dance floor haze of your memory worked loose:

             lift the neon-soak from the dark and let the streetlights blink off

             cash in your chips, ignore the persuasion of sticky carpet
Go back to the start,

before the hammerhead light of morning burned the curtains:

             unstack and refill plastic cups, distinguish every face

             retrace your steps, save your judgement psalms for the unholy
Go back to the start,

before you crept out, drank tap-water from cupped hands:

             let the smell of liquor dry out and vanish from your dress

             hold everything together, keep your hand on your purse
Go back to the start,

before you stepped into the first terrible song of morning:

             cover your tenderised flesh and count out your small change

             remember how ugly the amusement park seems by day
Go back to the start,

before the last light turned off, and you forgot where your skin began:

             fold and unfold on repeat, breathe deeply in the back seat of a taxi

             remember the smell of blood, remember the instinct of sharks.