divine magnet

about

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Patricia No

 

An Apology

I like my chair, it is not the most comfortable chair.

I like tucking a foot under my ass until it sleeps,

I like the weirdness of needing to shift constantly.

It is a relationship I understand, the body of my chair.

I slowly disappear from others and physically unremember

how to sleep in someone, something like that cracks.

I’m still a person when I leave chair, am I not?

I want someone to know.

I fuck up a lot of things just sitting in my chair.

I don’t know how to apologize.

Maybe I don’t know how to make someone laugh.

Have I so aged into this form, mute to sex

when all that happens is I feel it so much,

like all the time. I feel it so much all the time.

Simple. Your body, your body.

 

At the Beach

you touch my hair

before I touch your hand

on my hair

you hand me a stone

straight from the water

we are all alone

the sand lights up

when we walk

everywhere else it’s dark

you exercise the right

to be cruel. Better to feel

closer to god

is that what we’ve

come to

I get it

yes I disappeared

and left you without a light

it felt good

to be cruel

leave the wet beach

w/o you.

 

Fault Lines

These faults between my legs

are no triumph of the sea.

I worked really hard for them.

 

What Was When I Did That?

I used to press a spoon

to my stomach at night

before sleep. I was really little.

I told myself what I was doing,

that I just didn’t know you

or know anything at all

except that I was smart.

I pushed the cold curve

down with my hands,

I was shamed I touched it

thinking you might like it

when I didn’t even know you yet.