By Gabby Gabby.
On a bed we sit like miniature bears.
You can bury me in your mattress,
I want to sit next to you
until we become dangerous.
Until we become parade balloons of bears,
cut loose and floating too close
to the street level floors of buildings.
“I want you up there,”
you said with closed eyes, pointing
to the chandelier that you called a ‘ceiling necklace’.
Cross your heart and hope to live for a very long time.
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How to live
On the edge of my bathtub I watch a girl
lick cum off of her face and smile.
I can cry while watching porn when it reminds me of sex
with someone that I loved who now loves somewhere else.
When the girl in the video kind of does something
that she thinks is sexy but the guy laughs instead of thinking it’s sexy.
When the sex is slow and it takes some time
to figure out how to change positions without pulling out.
My heart pushes up this heart stuff. I can feel it
when strangers that look like us are fucking.
We exist in there.
This poem isn’t going to teach you anything.
Look to porn to teach you about good living.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Gabby Gabby (b. 1992) is a feminist/writer/person. She is the author of three e-books. Her chapbook length collection of poems, Airplane Food, is forthcoming from NAP (2012) and a full length collection of poems, Tiny Clothes for Tiny People, is forthcoming from Civil Coping Mechanisms (2014). She has been published in Metazen and various other online publications.
First published in 3:AM Magazine: Tuesday, July 10th, 2012.