Aubade with Strap-On
by Meghann Plunkett
Not the morning
light that makes me whole,
the three of us
in your twin bed
Still, at the root of me,
I feel it
a phantom
forgetting
what isn’t mine
Still the same girl, yes,
but for the first time,
all my empty gone
fake, escape
false flesh
feral
throbless
tethered
Last night I saw your back arch,
your face hidden
in the long Sunday
of your hair
I became something else
something that understood
how to bare my teeth and like a man
drive forgiveness from you
where there is nothing
to forgive
I understood how
to bend you double,
the aluminum taste
of control
thick in my lung– sweet girl,
what does it mean–
to be me anymore? I was a single
match flint, I was the music
of wolves,
I was the same
as you
Now, I watch your breathing
and wonder who else has spent
a dark morning
holding your hips to their own,
a robin at the window
but I want you all
to myself,
hate everything that could make you
quill, there is a new want
born in me
and I have forgotten
myself,
obsessing
in the mineminemine
of being more man
than I was before
light that makes me whole,
the three of us
in your twin bed
Still, at the root of me,
I feel it
a phantom
forgetting
what isn’t mine
Still the same girl, yes,
but for the first time,
all my empty gone
fake, escape
false flesh
feral
throbless
tethered
Last night I saw your back arch,
your face hidden
in the long Sunday
of your hair
I became something else
something that understood
how to bare my teeth and like a man
drive forgiveness from you
where there is nothing
to forgive
I understood how
to bend you double,
the aluminum taste
of control
thick in my lung– sweet girl,
what does it mean–
to be me anymore? I was a single
match flint, I was the music
of wolves,
I was the same
as you
Now, I watch your breathing
and wonder who else has spent
a dark morning
holding your hips to their own,
a robin at the window
but I want you all
to myself,
hate everything that could make you
quill, there is a new want
born in me
and I have forgotten
myself,
obsessing
in the mineminemine
of being more man
than I was before
Meghann Plunkett is a poet, coder, and lover of dogs. She was a finalist for the 2017 North American Review’s Hearst Poetry Prize as well as the 2016 Narrative Magazine's 30 Below Contest. Meghann is currently an MFA candidate at Southern Illinois University, Carbondale where she was awarded the Academy of American Poets College Prize. Her poems can be found or are forthcoming in Narrative Magazine, the North American Review, The Paris-American, Muzzle Magazine, Winter Tangerine, decomP Magazine, storySouth, and the anthology Chorus (Simon & Schuster, 2012). Her essays, erasures and animated poems can be found in Luna Luna Magazine. She is the writer in residence at Omega Institution and the director of The Black Dog Tall Ship Writing Retreat on Martha’s Vineyard, MA. (visit her at meghannplunkett.com)
Meghann Plunkett is a poet, coder, and lover of dogs. She was a finalist for the 2017 North American Review’s Hearst Poetry Prize as well as the 2016 Narrative Magazine's 30 Below Contest. Meghann is currently an MFA candidate at Southern Illinois University, Carbondale where she was awarded the Academy of American Poets College Prize. Her poems can be found or are forthcoming in Narrative Magazine, the North American Review, The Paris-American, Muzzle Magazine, Winter Tangerine, decomP Magazine, storySouth, and the anthology Chorus (Simon & Schuster, 2012). Her essays, erasures and animated poems can be found in Luna Luna Magazine. She is the writer in residence at Omega Institution and the director of The Black Dog Tall Ship Writing Retreat on Martha’s Vineyard, MA. (visit her at meghannplunkett.com)
