The gold thread holding Leadership’s hammock Is fraying like my personality. I put my star-spangled mouth On my husband’s face with no aim. His breath cascades over my Neck. Everyone on our street has a laundry room but me Our little girl wears old Onesies and roller skates in the shower. The emperor has clothes. He just doesn’t want us to see them. like a mathematician he subtracts us one by one where I go, my husband goes his breath locked onto my hips.