I keep having this dream where you’re demanding I give you a blowjob & I say, “no,” & you say, “okay.” In the dream, you’re very tall. In life, you’re very tall. In the dream you look like a tree if trees were black men and could intentionally bend over black women & ask them for sexual favors. So, you didn’t look like a tree. I’ve never been in love with you, so I haven’t collected the nuances. Can’t set a table full of your name inside of other nameable things. A table of Twista lyrics. A table of fried chicken & not enuf shea butter your elbows are killing me. A table of you’d like to buy a house right now to say you own somewhere & can point to it with your hand, then your other hand, then your bank account. A table full of bourbon & that’s the closest I know you, after we drank the table. That’s dehydration. That’s a kitchen sink. That’s a bird & it can’t be more beautiful. That’s a delusion. That’s a small mind. Pick it up. An ovary is the size of a walnut & maybe I dream of you because I’d never make a family with you, but you think about making families a lot more often than I did & now I don’t know if I can make one without words like “rupture” & “surrogate” & “adoption” coming into play. Let’s come into play. There’s this woman I love & I have to concentrate to dream about her or she walks right out of my head. Stay. Stay one night. I am very adept at giving men blowjobs & maybe it is the act of giving I am disinterested in more than penises at large. I’ve spent a long time learning to do things that do not serve me. Stay. She always leaves me giggling at the door, tattoo of a flag across her whole back underneath a coat that I am disinterested in. Come here. At large, I’m not very good at loving intimately. With my whole body. I see her name on my phone and I think, “this means something” more than what it means it means she’s calling you answer your phone. I can’t fully dream of buying a house without dreaming of making some kids, “but I’ve seen my ovaries & baby, it’s not looking great,” I say to no one in particular. I am increasingly less interested in penises. They’re so abrupt on the body. A shock of land. I’ve never entirely understood or trusted land. I was born during an earthquake & have a single interest in pressure.
Originally published in Connotation Press.
See all the pieces from 29 Days of Beautiful here.