xxxxoo
by Melissa Gordon
I wrote unclear and spell check changed it to nuclear. Maybe you exist in my nuclei. Maybe what
your image arouses is a part of my self.
When we are together, I don’t explain. Something protruding from one of us, fits snug into a slot
in the other. Interlocks.
I’ve not often had someone visibly show me they want to mesh with the space I occupy. And into
your space I don’t have to trip and fall. I walk straight into it and press my knees, my thighs, my
shoulders against yours. You press my lips when we say goodbye.
We let our toes dangle over the edge of our distant couches. We snap expressions in photos and
send. I read your books, your essays, the words you’ve written while you disconnected from
humans, sought alone. I see your face beneath the words. And, like a knife, I carve pieces of me,
and hand them to you.
I am not afraid of what I willingly give you. I wait for time to give us another moment. I wait on
the shore where I know you will wash up.
Gyroscope Review 41
!