Requiem for a Party
By Kelly Ann Malone

One-thirty am, Sunday morning.

Half-eaten canapes and parsley sprigs linger on silver platters
Wax stumps faintly flicker "au revoir"
And wear CD's stripped of their jackets long for asylum

In the punch bowl float exhausted sliced of lemon and orange
And the dollops of sherbet have liquefied into a pink, lifeless froth
Once ample balloons have begun their pensive decline

Conspicuous Red lipstick brands the intoxicated stemware
And the lukewarm ice bucket has taken on water and cigarette butts
The tonic has lost its effervescence, leaving it unable to flirt with

What was once vibrant and desired is now, sadly, refuge.

Kelly Ann Malone is a 38-year-old mother of 3 boys, a husband, and a full-time job as a project analyst in a cancer research department. She has been published in York Unibersity's "School of Women's Studies" journal, Cappers Magazine, Chrysalis Web-zine, The Wesletan Advocate Magazine, and many others.


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