I am here! I am here, and my existence isn’t some holy sin, isn’t some bruise on the Earth’s jaw—
I am here, and if there is love to be had, I will earn it— And I know there is love. It paints its shadow by the fire, and only then do I feel warm. We talk a little. Feed each other salmonberries. The branches are fractal and the universe is fractured and everything I see leaves tiny shards in my eyes.
WANNA MAKE OUT?
I want to swap spit but metaphorically!
Want to take all the gunk inside of me, all the “I” no one cared enough to ask about,
all the dribble still flavored with poems I recite
(under my breath),
and mix it with yours! With kissing!
And I closed-mouth kiss but I open-mouth talk! I open-ear listen!
I open heart, warm&wet&sexy!
I bet your lips are so soft! I bet your details are so defined! I bet you think things
when looking at stars, and car windows, & rain sliding down
stars and car windows! I bet you think things I could NeverEver think,
and I want it! I want you, I want warmth,
I don’t want to be alone!
And we could think things while looking at each other!
And our hearts could beat so fast we could break
out of these bodies and at last
step into the open air between us, and breathe for once,
and we could kiss
and we could love in a way they would NeverEver know,
and we could kiss—!
Aimee Lowenstern is a twenty-one year old poet living in Nevada. She has cerebral palsy and is a big fan of glitter.