selected works

how

am I expected to watch Faye Wong repeatedly break and enter that guy’s apartment

when you keep stroking my hair?

slipping your fingers up my sleeve?

Impossible.

dried blood on my knees

wide blue sky

my own heartbeat under my hand

i never knew what a comfort it could be

my own skin

my muscle and bone

you made your bed

lie in it.

you kiss me, my mouth—
against my eyelids I see
fresh snow, everywhere

is what you texted me, and i called you - i called you for the first time and i said i’ll bring one, i can get one im passing a store right now do you want me to get one? and they didn’t have small ones so i bought a big one it was so big it filled both my hands, and during our scene i was peeling it and you touched my leg, you touched my - just a little brush of your fingertips, not even on my bare skin but - you touched my leg and i thought about it for weeks, how you hadn’t touched me during rehearsal and how you were looking at me with eyes so big and dark and warm and you touched my leg right above my knee and it took me a second, you brought me back to myself for a second, the scene kept going but i stayed behind, thinking about how you’d never touched me like that before, and i had orange all over my hands, and my fingers were stained, like me after you, stained, and after the scene you popped a piece in your mouth and you said this is a really good orange.

you were sitting across from me At porchlight and you
were so far away my Hands were covered in tequila and
candied ginger They were making this sticky
smacking sound Everytime I pressed them together and pulled them Apart
you put your hand up because you wanted to know
what it Felt like my hands didn’t make the sound when they
were on either side of your hand But it didn’t matter because you
had offered yourself up to be touched by me I was touching
you your skin and bones Instead of feeling your hand Float
over my back Through my tshirt

I could feel it The moment my hands pressed
on either side of yours noise Rushed in to fill
the silence the first silence - Which wasn’t
silence at all it was corporate chatter My heartbeat in my throat Both of us
staring at your hand Sandwiched by both of mine

and the Sound of something deep unEarthly unstoppable

rushing

through me

sew your body into mine

palm to palm

hips to hips

your tongue

to my teeth

your mouth

to mine

stitch us together again

I’ll rip them out

later

when I'm back in New York

(you won’t even have to watch)

you say

do you have more freckles than I remember?

I don’t know

I’ve never seen my own face

you tell me.

i asked you once
what you were thinking and you said
sometimes you ask me that
and im just thinking your name over and over

if you’d wanted to i
would have cracked my
chest open so you
could crawl inside

you jog across the street

smiling and brilliant,

against the light,
to get to me

to wrap your arms around me
to touch my elbow
my waist
and lead me into central park
in the wrong direction

let’s go this way.
and I followed you

and I would again
happily, eagerly,
instinctively

 

orange

​

i.

the first night,

or second, or third,

depending on how you count

—when we kissed for an hour

outside of the duane reade

on 14th street—

the feeling was so big

i made you walk

because i couldn’t sit still

i stared at my hands holding your shirt,

i said i can’t even look at you

and you said wait no

look at me

and i did.

ii. 

sometimes i pause

before i speak

to think

of what and how to say and

you said you could live

in that moment

forever

you said

you’ve been hanging on

to every word since

the day

we met.

​

iii.

you sat on my kitchen counter

while i made cookies

you took my hand

to suck melted chocolate

from my finger.

iv. 

i told you i was

scared

and beating myself up

for feeling anything

besides happiness

and you said

i’m learning that

i’m learning that—

it’s everything.

v. 

you kiss me, my mouth—

against my eyelids I see

fresh snow, everywhere.

vi. 

once i was in your bed and you said

can you tell how I feel

when i kiss you?

i don’t always have the words

that’s why sometimes i just

think your name

over and over.

vii. 

i said

you are so kind

and so gentle

and so patient

with me

you held my face

in your hands

and said that’s how

i want to love you.

vii. 

i sat between your legs and

told you i felt

like a failure and

you told me

you wanted to be there

for me through

big things.

ix. 

we are sitting

on a park bench

i ask you

what you want

you keep saying

i don’t know saidie

i don’t know

and i say

if you’re ending this can you

please

just say that

you rub my knee and

rub my knee

and rub my knee

and you still can’t

say it

all i can think is

why the fuck

are you still

touching me?

x. 

you said i was your favorite actor

you said when i act

you can’t take your eyes off me

did you just say that to get me

into

bed?

xi. 

sometimes i am so angry with you

i don’t know

what to do

with my hands.

xii. 

in the room with you i am

a monster—

dark blue and spiky and

venomous,

brittle and raging,

an animal in a cage,

throwing my body against the bars,

feeling my guts leap

from my throat

into my outstretched

hands.

xiii. 

when we used to talk

on the phone

i would hang up glowing and

swirling and

breathless

like i didn’t know how

to be in my body

without your body

to press myself against

to know where i ended—

if i called now it would be

mostly just

to hear you

say my name.

xiv.

i told you how

one halloween

when i was a child

i went as a ladybug

in a costume my mother

made for me

you stopped dead and

put your face in your hands

and said i need a second

and then asked if

my costume had had wings.

xv. 

if i could take it

back

i would.

i would give it up—

all of it

to be able to walk

into a room

with you in it,

to walk up to you

and say hi—

to look at you

and for you 

to look back.