CHECKLIST 

yellow tote in the bedroom corner   if he notices he’ll see clotted yarn, half the scarf I pick at at night, knit purl chart   hid the needles   biggest bag I got and a deep inside pocket   second fake layer under the wool if he does dig around   his blue shirt collar to mend, sheet his toenail tore, dress he ripped the sleeve off of

packed bus ticket, expired driver’s license for ID   phone numbers on the back of the Radio Shack receipt scribbled so messy he’d never catch on   hotline, Carol’s sister in LA, shelter 800s in cities east to west   cash sewed into the lining, small bills faster to get change they say   underwear Frida socks green sweater blood pressure prescription pills tampons eyedrops soap toothbrush tweezer hairbrush extra glasses ibuprofen t-shirt jeans scarf notepad pen morning-after pill   he’d see day one checks missing so no checks   throwaway phone charged up   a few photos sewed-in with the cash

for my purse, the log of 911 calls, unfiled court order, apartment lease, folded in a Valpak envelope on the night stand as if coupons just came in the mail, he’ll pay no mind  

cell’s GPS turned off, did that, I’ll throw it down the sewer grate at 6th and Main on the way to the station 

fed the dog extra but not too extra he’d question it in a minute, filled the back-up waterbowl in the closet where the poor thing runs to hide

memorized the numbers if—can’t even think about—the tote’s slid from under me   stolen when I sleep   won’t sleep too deep   memorized   memory’s my partner, best friend   protects me, keeps my secret   organizes my to-do lists, gave this who-knows plan a shape   keeps me breathing   jumps in and redirects traffic when my mind buzzes skizzy, stops me before the crash   pushed and pounded, veering out of control   memory calls me by my new name Augusta and knows me from before my black blue bruised face ribs shoulders

after the first time, I told anyone who asked that I slipped on the wet bathroom floor, stupid stupid, bashed my face on the sink   didn’t know I could report it, push the shame outside myself   second third times didn’t know how to report it   and besides, I was embarrassed   he listens to all my calls, the doctor AT&T Mom HR when my paycheck was off   drives me to work picks me up double parks when I shop, even for a toy for Carol’s baby   he times my time at the grocery then checks the eggs were on sale the detergent generic the lipstick the cheapest

I didn’t know I could see out, find a way out, let alone disappear   until at the dentist’s of all places, on the inside of the bathroom door a poster with a call number   and below it the dentist wrote use the phone in our back office, we’ll keep it confidential   and he did