you are a robotic hand-me-down
from the free pile,
and when i tried you on,
you fit me in a manner i can only describe
as,

bulkily, but without offending.

i wanted to be surrounded by
that feeling,
smothered by it, eventually.

your sharp lines and chicken-bone kneecaps
served as an end to that period of softness,
that i could fall into and press my limbs against.

you do not cushion me.
it's not a bad thing.

i want you to stay uncomfortable.
i want to be cradled in that never sure,
or never ready sensation that leads us into questions like
"what do you want to do?" because there is a safety to distance.

there is a meaning behind not knowing what you want
or being confused about how you like it.

before, i could trace out my own chalk outline
in that skin and get inside of it.
i could throw my lips into any severe angle and still
reach that mouth. i could be loud or angry or rough or dejected
and still i would know how to steer myself towards that repose
that meant i was wanted. needed, even.

with you,
i don't want that.

i want to be good for you,
but not too good.

i want to detach myself from our entangled bodies
and be able to function without you.
i want to keep you at an arms length for the impetuous reason
that should i lose you,
i could say,

"i knew it all along"...
because you will be no exception.

you will be everything that i never wanted
you will be
nothing.
and that will be enough.

10/30/2010

Posted on 10/31/2010
Copyright © 2024 Lauren Singer