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June 10, 2016 | Poetry

two poems

Alana Folsom

two poems photo

 

IMAGINED CONFESSION DURING A DATE AT AN ITALIAN RESTAURANT

As the red candle puddles wax on the checkered tablecloth I
confess that I want a full skirt made of parmesan that I want
every man I've ever slept with to break off creamy brittle
chunks from the round hanging heavily on my hips and feed
them to me slowly over hours over years until we find a
freedom in the exposure
                                           how my thighs underneath are the
same color as the cheese are as lumped and fatty and
delicious and we will laugh at how we can't tell the
difference and then every man I've ever slept with will
begin again this time breaking off and feeding me pieces of
myself until I am nothing which is what I really want isn't it

 

ON MY LIVING ROOM COUCH

we both know I am in love        with another man
as I figure eight my hips above yours
                            the ghosts of your aloneness     escaping through your throat
                            is this what youth is for
              hurting each other & knowing better
              which we confuse for knowing why
                           we talk               about how to protect ourselves        hopeful
attempts at honesty      maybe
we can be friends after we fuck              maybe
I've imagined you                    licking the sweat riding down my neck          as I touch myself
                          I'm always on top                        months from now
we will blame each other    for not feeling         impossibly
as the other feels         yet
we continue     yet         I        continue
knowing            the fault of my confidence will protect me
             that I have my partner to fall back on        who says yes
and you                you         I'm not so sure            but can pretend
             what you say you want         is actually what you want
                                                                            and call it agency         call it kindness
              when you call me dangerous  I think you mean I can change you
                           as I tug off your shirt                 your eyes hold so much light

 

 

 

image: Sean Fitzgerald


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