Fruitless

 for J

 

33 & no mouth to account
for       no abdomen expanded and
deflated           no answer
to these widened hips
except my own hands
            as I satisfy myself at
  no expense

to another.       A barren choice
but I wanted this freedom   connected
   yet without debt to flesh.

Remembering you      I curse
             my lack of a rib
to spare you in our making—

no extra marrow of me to become
bone of you.
            What could I have given
to make you stay?


                        I want
to purchase again the drugs
that brought your lips

   to mine         the powders
we nostriled in & swallowed down
that glowed the whole room

            orange   bright sun      our bodies
mirrors of each other.

Kate Bucca

Kate Bucca (she/her) is a PhD candidate at the University of Prince Edward Island, with a focus on inclusive education, writing instruction, and arts-based research. She lives in Maine with the writer Dominic Bucca and two cats, Chaos and Complexity. Find more of her work at katebucca.com.

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I am told that I might have had a stroke but that everything will be fine, probably

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Filled Mouths Don’t Sleep at Night