Academic journal article Antipodes

I Am Starting with Your Wrists

Academic journal article Antipodes

I Am Starting with Your Wrists

Article excerpt

We are screened off from each other.

I see your bones arch on the monitor,

hazy filigree of spine and fingers.

Steady stream of reassurance

from the doctor gets in the way of us -

I do not share her familiarity with you.

This is an exercise in shifting perception,

to know your latitudes, upside-downs,

and even insides (inside me).

I am told you are a boy;

I fail to understand.

I am starting with your wrists, knees, lips.

With these blurred pieces

I will work towards the whole of you.

You are masked by me.

Hidden by skin, you move

like an errant organ, rogue of digestion.

My skin stretches taught and tigerish,

jumps and flattens.

I meet you, partial, with fenced-off

sections of my senses.

You are real and unreal before I blink;

I cannot comprehend how to feel

but not to touch.

I am starting with your somersaults,

shuffles, swerves.

With these sudden pieces

I will work towards the whole of you: boy. …

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