Teresa Petro-Micchelli

Shot in the Face

I touch my cheekbones—
worry that they’ve sunken in further:
are they caverns, potholes, what asphalt
is on fire. Is something wrong with me?
I ask an Indian man
on the sidewalk.
Something feels off.

Like my face is imploding,
and the traffic has stopped.
What red light is broken,
as a pickup truck drove by.
I thought the light was red,
it was flashing. Then a bundle of steel
butterflies against the glass behind me.
I had stopped at an electronic store front
to watch T.V. on a flat screen.

You don’t look so good.
The man steps three steps back.
And I realize that I forgot to wear makeup
that day. I was in a hurry,
but strange I can’t remember where
I was going.
You were shot, he twists his lips
into a frown.
But I’m standing, I say,
and then suddenly feel dizzy, see angels,
think the street lights aren’t talking.

I hear the ambulance from afar—
feel myself twitch a little.
Like I am child after falling asleep,
and I am in someone else’s dream,
it’s only her that can see me.
Jessica, I scream, but my voice is small
it only echoes across the inside of my throat,
more blood gushes out.
I touch my cheeks, her cheeks,
pull away from the sleeper
in me, I won’t let myself die this way.
Jessica, I scream, no whisper, wake up,
wake up, it’s time to take the dog out.

And I feel myself tangled like a tired body
in sheets. And I feel myself waking,
telling her, this isn’t you, it’s me,
your face is fine,
don’t touch it, just put on your shoes
lock the door, but whatever you do
don’t stop on the street
tonight.


Teresa Petro-Micchelli is published in; The Little Patuxant Review; The Backbone Mountain Review; and Review Revue. Her chapbook, Tattered Ride, was published in April 2009 by Asleep on the 4 Train Press. She performs as a poetry editor for Shady Side review. Teresa currently attends Chatham University’s MFA in Creative Writing program where she serves as an assistant poetry editor for The Fourth River.