Jeff Ruane CC
An Exercise in Destruction
I dismembered my doll
so I have something to put together.
I dismembered several, a head
of a hand of a torso of a leg.
I reached for an arm & mother
saw the saliva dribbling from my mouth,
& screamed-- a momentary lapse--
& I was back at my pace! Like God,
I too have mastered indifference.
Like god still, I haven’t mastered creation.
Only you remain no stranger, a shadow
petite enough to hold my tongue &
replace with an ear. I dance to the music
it is all I can hear.
My words conjure no silence, my love
is only a discomforting noise. I breathe
only when I can’t.
In a dream, I ask you to transform
me into your favorite kind of tree.
There is an incredible pain in my
neck & I never sleep. Once, I looked
back too much too fast. Every part pushed
the tightest becomes numb, becomes
my heart. Oranges are functional in their
entirety, each fiber serves as a reminder
to your memory & I never eat. My pain
extends from its source, becomes functional;
stories to tell you. You instruct me not
to define love as something that has happened
to me. I chant apologies towards a hollow
stone until I knock myself out on your door.
If I knew the parting moment, I would touch
your face & kiss it- that was all. Now,
I sob prayers under the wet blanket until it calms
me. To be dead is to not be
Javeria Hasnain is a senior undergrad student from Karachi, Pakistan. She acts in short films and theatre, and writes poetry. She hopes to pursue an MFA in Poetry.
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