I AM A NATURAL WONDER

& have been for about three weeks now. I don’t remember ‘yesterday’;
I’m all like scrambled eggs, oh my baby…I had all these FANTASIES:
go missing, go nameless, elated. Slip into a red hold. A strongarm silent
muscle cradle above the crowds, carrying me parallel to the drugged liquid
speed of collective action. Or something. I know, I know, your name
is still so soft, a mohair halo, a dreamword that melts sweetly when thought
into shape. I’m not reeeeally demagnetized with amnesia, not post-context,
not point unplotted. …how I love your legs! But how I love my own, too!,
& my good drugs!, & my fool heart!, & the warm center I wake back
into again & again, with wonder, with natural wonder, a little wonder
beyond the echo of your designation, beyond the ocular field of your
sweaty dress shirts, my dead pet names.

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To learn more about Hanna Andrews, visit her blog Hatching Supernovae.

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