National Poetry Month 2021

Q: why the jealousy?

A: it’s midnight and the answers don’t come at this time, and I’m too tired to wait till 3 am, when I’m positive the answers will arrive. so instead I’ll pretend I’m a scribe and conjure up an answer from the ethereal space in which it resides. yes, thank you, I want to sneeze but instead I admit that it’s because I am a person with Chiron in Taurus. the stars are to blame for this. the wounded warrior is afraid of losing everything it has to the hands of another. I’ve come to understand the body I have isn’t genetically pleasing, it is a body—nothing more nothing less—so I envy those that are capable of length and of writhing. the ones that make the simplest things look like small revelations and the mundane, a cosmic interference. I am clumsy and irritable. a laugh with a sonorousness that can heal the sick or wake up the dead. A “too much” smudge. A belittled harvest of five feet with an extra two inches for fun. what is a body but a prototype for experiences. a “thank you for coming out” godless and lingering piece of lingerie. A draping. A curtain. A poem about the moon and the sky. Yes. Thank you. Jealousy is about losing the few things you are able to lure. It is about knowing how demure some carcasses can maneuver in their ambit. How precious certain breasts can be and how soft another’s breath against the burning of our anticipation. how painful it is to be inside yourself and know that you’re not always welcomed anywhere by anyone. jealousy helps the mind and limbs move in directions where a walk becomes a dance and a simple act of loving becomes a genocide.

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