by Kristen Walsh
acceptance, n.
You didn’t question me when I carried a pegmatite rock the size of a human infant into your car. Thank you for that.
age, n.
This always seemed relevant somehow.
anxiety, n.
You knew I was afraid of getting caught in a full height turnstile, but not once did you make an effort to avoid them.
basmati, n.
Our shoes slipped on,
laces tied.
You looked back.
I nodded.
The door opened,
frigid wind and petrichor.
You hesitated,
sounds of protest on your lips.
But I didn’t listen,
walked past.
You firmly planted your feet;
I grabbed your hand and tugged.
Boots gently pounded on wood.
Lightning ignited.
Not a word was spoken.
Thunder roared.
Eyes closed, lips brushed,
rain pattered on soft skin.
bioluminescence, n.
We met in the American Museum of Natural History because we were both staring at the underside of the cookie cutter shark.
blister, n.
I’ve seen more of Manhattan than you ever will.
champagne, n.
On New Year’s Eve
You came to my room with a brown paper bag
I knew instantly it had to be champagne
Didn’t you know I was underage?
claustrophobia, n.
Please just hold my hand.
consent, n.
Why didn’t you ask before you touched me like that?
consideration, n.
There were four slices of my favorite pizza in the fridge when I went to your apartment late one night. They were a gift from your roommate.
deceit, n.
I can’t find the orca earrings you bought me
depleted, adj.
You eyed the nearly empty salsa jar without surprise and, if I’m right, a little contempt. It was our first night together and this is what you had to offer: boxed pasta with sauce from a jar, not-even-there salsa, and exactly zero chips. You said, “Let’s make a grocery run!” I was younger then, more easily satisfied with the little things, small adventures, your smile, and what I thought was a form of domesticity. I had never stayed with someone before. I had napped with an ex-lover once, but I didn’t remember it at this moment. While we waited on line, you holding chips and salsa, me holding precious cargo (chocolate coconut milk ice cream), we talked about my diet. I had been a vegan for maybe a year or two when I met you. You said this exactly: “I won’t go vegan for you.” I had not asked you to, nor expected you to. Yet I was shocked and a little hurt by your words. I wasn’t sure where they had come from, or why I cared. I liked you at this point, but nothing more. I didn’t even know what you really thought of me, or what we were. And then we slept. Or, rather, you slept. I watched you wake up and open your turquoise eyes. I had just learned that I could not sleep with someone, especially against a wall, without awaking my claustrophobia. I didn’t know I had claustrophobia until I met you. All of my sweet imaginings of having someone hold me were smothered by hours of lying next to you in the dark, staring at the plain, white ceiling. Yet, when you opened your eyes to look at me, I fell instantly in love. I left for California to study tectonic plates for a month and when I came back you had already moved on. Your new lover looks like me but is younger, simpler, oh, and vegan. And now you are vegan too. You want to meet up to grab ice cream… but I’m tired.
descent, n.
We kissed under the stairs, where it was too dark to tell if you wanted her or me.
endomorphism, n.
Your rejection taught me to love myself.
fairytale, n.
I remember you saying, “I don’t believe in happy endings.”
fault, n.
I shifted mountains for you.
gallery, n.
I asked you not to call me “baby”
greed, n.
you said, “I kissed you because I wanted to”
hydroponics, n.
Hearing science from your voice is so mellifluous I too could grow.
I, n.
me without you
inedible, adj.
The basmati was burnt to a crisp.
insomnia, n.
do you want any cookies?
justification, n.
“I’m leaving you because I care about you”
kissing, v.
your mouth has the flavor
of insomnia and death
I swear it’s the coffee and the cigarettes
knockout, n.
Hit me again. I dare you.
light, adj., n., v.
No, please, I don’t want a hit tonight.
limnology, n.
I step into the shower
let the scorching water
skin me alive
before falling to my knees
if Alice cried an entire
swimming pool
how much have I?
loop, n.
I over analyze it
with pinpricks of thought.
I unstitch my heart
with the needle I bought.
A hook lies inside
the reason I was caught.
The thread is heavy with blood
but this is not the answer I sought.
lost, adj.
I memorized the MTA subway map.
love, n.
Pass me a bowl of rice, would you, love?
machete, n.
I’m no longer afraid of poison ivy.
marble, n.
I was contemplating Diana’s bow and arrow when you came up behind me in The Metropolitan Museum of Art. You told me you liked my turquoise hair. It was, after all, the same color as yours. I didn’t know yet how arrogant you’d be. I dyed my hair purple soon after that.
mean, adj., n.
“I’ve had better.”
mellifluous, adj.
Intoxicated,
she asked,
would you rather be
blind or deaf?
Intoxicated,
I stared,
she was beautiful,
but she didn’t really compare.
I thought of you,
in the dark,
when we lay holding hands
and I wished we’d never depart.
If I could listen to you talk into the night,
I’d live without sight
muse, n.
I wrote fifty-five poems while we were dating. Then it took me a year to begin to write again.
museum, n.
The first time you came over, I told you it was okay to look through my stuff, to explore the drawers. I wanted you to see me. I wanted you to know me. When I came back from the bathroom you were laying on my bed, unmoved.
nowhere, adv.
zippers bite my skin
the wind whips my face
I walk through all the places we’ve been
god grant me the grace
I’ve locked all our memories in a tin
but I’ve opened the base
I can’t help but grin
at every taste
objectify, v.
me after you
pastime, n.
I no longer felt safe
in amnh
so I carried tissues
just in case
pegmatite, n.
You actually dislocated your wrist trying to get the perfect piece from the outcrop. I thought you looked amazing, using a sledgehammer by the side of the road like that. You don’t even like igneous rocks, not the way I do. But you took your favorite first, and then let me choose mine.
petrichor, n.
I prefer to be alone.
piano, n.
Because this is a poem
I wish there were words
more eloquent, more beautiful
than the ones I will refer.
As you slept beside me
your body stayed awake
it twitched and it spasmed
quick and hard to taste
when you reached for my hand
you seemed to play a melody
as if I were an instrument
that denied you of your song
pip, n.
what’s the probability that if we kept rolling, we would have made it?
possibility, n.
What if I told you, “I’m in love with you”
purple, adj.
Each night I tip my head back
Down diphenhydramine
I’ve had it since you left
I can’t sleep without it
or maybe
I can’t sleep without you
You dyed your hair again
I swear it’s the universe
making a mock of me
It’s bitter sweet
like the taste of your name
on my lips
on my tongue
down my throat
You choke me
make it hard to breathe
I have to gasp
bend over
Stop
I have to
Stop
myself from taking that leap
That purple drink
It helps me sleep
But that train
Man
Would that train
Help me sleep
I changed my hair
It used to match yours
I’ve changed it
To change me
The universe
It’s making a mock of me
I can’t sleep
Without you
Or without it
Let me sleep
Just let me sleep
I never want
To wake up
Because I never want
To see
Purple dye
Turquoise eyes
We were beautiful
Please don’t deny
I gag at the taste of purple.
quirk, n.
You laughed. “What’s in here? Rocks?”
routine, n.
I’m back to using my toothpaste.
sleep, n.
kiss me like you missed me in the night
soap, n.
The smells of sea salt, lemon, and jasmine.
stay, v.
I smell like the sea,
as if it’s miles away.
You taste like youth,
a gentle passing of time.
My skin is soft but scarred,
torn apart by my mind.
When you kissed me,
you painted my body with hues of indigo.
When I touched you,
I sketched your body with trails of crimson.
Your skin is smooth but wounded,
marked by a lack of grace.
I taste like peaches,
a sweetness that can stain lips.
You smell like sleeping under sheets,
something old and somewhere warm.
stratigraphy, n.
and you
a few hair ties…
my toothbrush
earplugs
a pair of tights
I left behind
terrain, n.
AMNH is updating their hall of gems and minerals. This is one of the first places I took you when you came to see me. I wanted to show you my happy place. I teased you about picking out a stone for an engagement ring but you told me you already knew what you wanted to get me. I was startled. I didn’t want a diamond. I smiled as if this news made me happy. Besides, it’s not like there was any chance we would get married. But now they’re making the rooms open and bright. The hall was a place of singular love and inspection. I cannot place my feelings on this, but I think they are bad.
toothpaste, n.
If you couldn’t eat meat and kiss me after,
I couldn’t eat curry and kiss you after.
urban, adj.
I left a love letter for you in the pot of fake plants in the Met’s American Art courtyard where we once spoke for hours. I can’t imagine that anyone has found it; it was really dusty in there.
volume, n.
I overheard you kissing her as I waited for you in our bedroom.
whim, n.
depression is calling
you and not even
putting the phone
to my ear because you will
not answer
x-axis, n.
I was dependent on y-ou
youth, n.
You can have it.
zipper, n.
Today is the first day I’ve worn my coat since last winter.
