Recent Post
@metatronpress

- 1 day ago

RT @internetfantasy: Sunday Brunch Reading ✨ Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke — Stephen Mitchell Translation ✨ 11AM PST / 2PM…
h J R
@metatronpress

- 2 days ago

RT @casonsharpe: yes, the rumours are true: join me later today for the inaugural edition of Cason’s Storytime Corner on Instagram Live via…
h J R
@metatronpress

- 3 days ago

Welcome to #InternationalPoetryMonth! All of our poetry books are 30% off for the month of April with code poetry4e… https://t.co/6LhOGHAdaI
h J R
@metatronpress

- 3 days ago

RT @internetfantasy: ok y’all it’s national poetry month i’m gonna just leave this here !! 🔮 https://t.co/diMaSE8Gqc
h J R
@metatronpress

- 3 days ago

Here is a snippet of @MIDNIGHTFILTH reading from her debut ʔbédayine 🥰 Available as a book/e-book:… https://t.co/McwNpGDcB6
h J R
Archives

OMEGA | Alex McGill
1892
post-template-default,single,single-post,postid-1892,single-format-standard,ajax_fade,page_not_loaded,,qode-theme-ver-6.3,wpb-js-composer js-comp-ver-5.0.1,vc_responsive

Alex McGill

01 Oct Alex McGill

I’M FEELING LESS ROMANTIC LATELY

 

my body opened and then closed,
untrusting and undeserving

on bike rides I let my mind wander
ahead of me across the pavement

I let metal press into my peach legs
until bruises dot the insides of my knees

I want to touch you the way I do fruit
in the grocery store

testing ripeness, readiness
are you sad? do you miss me?

I can’t stop crying in public and
it’s embarrassing

each day I wake up
so abruptly, calm interrupted

mourning light streaking
softly across my pillows

reminding me how
I opened to you like a wound

I write letters
and address them to you

I can’t remember what
there is to love about me

I’m in my bed alone
I’m waiting to scab

 


 

IN TOUCH

 

I am infinity

I am barely holding on
bare skin and bared knuckles
the air finally feels cool on my neck

but I’m still suffocating
under this weight that won’t lift

I hold my breath and my head under water
until I almost inhale it
claw myself to the surface for relief
suspend myself, weightless

my ears are submerged and all I can do is
feel

loneliness in my whole body
I am the sun, loneliness orbits
gravitational pull
I am my own galaxy
map my stars, my skin a constellation

I am the river to your late summer rainfall
downpour overflowing
slipping through me until I’m not sure
I can feel you, sinking to my depths

a piece of me is lost and I can’t find it
anywhere

I am a tiny speck
I wish I could submerge for all time
cease to exist except as a particle

a speck of salt in the endless water
a grain of sand worn down by
years of wave patterns and tidal shifts

I am a tide that is shifting
I want to be part of the ecosystem

 


Alex McGill is a writer and editor living and working in Toronto. She is also the Online Editor of Normale Magazine.

More Recent Posts