Maybe in the sandstorm of metaphor
you really don’t have a body –
but there’s something palpable
that makes me want to do battle
with your ectoplasmic splendor.
No alembic. Your body folds under you
as a collapsed puppet: my fervent
conquest of your gangliness now just
icky taxidermy. There are wings
under my armpits and also
secret beings. They straddle your
imagination in my imagination.
That is how we do not come
to know one another.

2 thoughts on “SPLENDOR

  1. I feel really presumptuous & nervous writing a comment because I never comment on blogs (because I'm not savvy yet). However, I just wanted to say that I really enjoyed this. Ever since you posted your thoughts re: adfempo, I've been thinking a lot about how to write about bodies & how to write “lyrically” without sounding trite and obnoxious. Something about this poem just made all of that a little clearer for me.

    Thank you so much!

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