Prism
by Sadie Forkner
“Being for a split second mirrors of each other, we had to be other than we were.”
Kathy Acker
Anything certain at all: a kind of force
or trick of the light. Someday,
I’m a man
in an orange dress stripping
the inside of a peach. Otherwise,
I’m a dyke
in a townhouse.
*
We cover the porchlight in red cellophane
& dance
& myself dissolves & dissolves & dissolves
(like itself)
into other people.
*
In the basement, I kiss my friends
& refuse my longing.
To live, you have
to decide to live.
Their mouths & mine & the hot
unfolding prism.
What I want of them.
*
To see someone & adjust myself,
watch the second split
between our bodies
& come
to the edge of fear.
I would be & would-be & wouldbe,
my feet in the grass.