20 Jul Sarah Jean Alexander
UNFATHOMABLY SMALL DISTANCE
Here’s a question for you: how can any single experience I have ever lived be done if I am still here, hello.
Half the time I have difficulty seeing you from any amount of distance. I have to close my eyes. How do you do that.
Well it’s okay if you don’t stay, you don’t have to. Still, I wait most days. Other days, I am also waiting.
It’s okay to feel that there are more important places to be than in my lap forever.
The moon has somehow become the most important figure in every person’s life. Everyone I know cannot seem to go on without it.
On the other hand, I don’t care. It’s just okay.
I know I should stop writing about unavoidable distance but to be fair sometimes it does make the gap less heavy.
I am sitting in a stall, sobbing on the toilet. I am between emails.
Take a closer look. My eyebrows don’t quite do the thing that other eyebrows do. You stare for awhile and say wow, what a pair of brows, while pronouncing them bros, and I understand.
Take a closer look. When two people touch, it isn’t really touching.
You mention the thing about atoms, and I recognise what you are saying. It’s true. Nothing can ever really feel anything else. I reach out, regardless. Fuck.
I lied earlier – everything I said about the moon. I care about it, purposefully, nearly every night.
I have found an endless comfort in hiding.
Try it. It will work for you, too.
Sarah Jean Alexander wrote Wildlives (Big Lucks Books, 2015), LOUD IDIOTS (Second Books, 2016) and STOP GODDAMN APOLOGIZING (Ghost City Press, 2017). She is the poetry editor of Shabby Doll House and tweets @sarahjeanalex.