I Enjoy the Act of Undoing when I catch you staring at the bracelets at my wrists, turquoise tinkles, watch flashing: “fleet the time carelessly as they did in the golden days”. You are a golden day I never had. My best friend asked you first, and now you ask me. Faithless. What if I took off all the bracelets, so all you could see was the scent of my skin? What if this dress was next, off my shoulders like silt? What if I didn’t stop there and kept peeling: clavicle to navel, silk viscera and skinning. What if I split hairs and atoms until I became undone 87 BLACK RENAISSANCE NOIRE unwoman, became feckless reaction, blinding and cruel, leaving your shadow burnt to the rubble? Word spreads, spills like petroleum. Heart arrested, small town. This is no Hiroshima.