Untitled | John Cleary

what have you done revision. pinkie ring finger. maroon, not purple.

am I beautiful. am I dizzy. am I sweating from the jolt. am I bent over in some new
method. am I something you could have and home.

I keep forgetting what day it is. or times I thought I’d remember to do things. or the hour
when I’m supposed to start counting the hours.

if I put on some chiffon. some pink. a backless dress. ducked under the garlands and
paper chains. my debut. would you recognize me as the debutant I am then. something
of your very own. something you could have and hold.

yes, revision, amendment of my definitions. I woke myself. I am waking. in the
bathroom I throw some water on my face. when I get back into the other room I find you
still there. I steal looks for idle hours while tonight’s debate pulses a muscle, a shrieker
free, dialer a down, a moan, a groan, my mouth on your chest. we pull taut, unyielding,
surely this is what you’re like and if not, what are you waiting for.

(The Volta | They Will Sew The Blue Sail | Bio)