Boyfriend
by Brenna Julian
University of Louisville
“...the erotic offers a well of replenishing and provocative force to the woman who does not fear
its revelation, nor succumb to the belief that sensation is enough.” –Audre Lorde
I have always been out of touch
with my body. The first time I tried to use a tampon
I gagged and dropped it on the bathroom floor.
I hated how they looked like syringes, hated
injection. When I touch
myself I keep all my clothes on.
I don’t want a boyfriend
because I don’t want anyone to know me
better than I do. I want to know
my curves, the heat of my breath. I want
to draw deep, sensation
succumbing to belief. Epiphany
of touch. I want
to fear no revelation.
Imagine I am a damsel
in a tower. Only instead
of getting kidnapped
I locked myself in. And instead
of a tower it’s a low-rise
apartment. And I am the knight
scaling up to meet me. I am the dragon
guarding my keep. I am turret and parapet
and four walls of cinder blocks.
Imagine I am a poem
in four stanzas. Words
begetting abstraction.
I am rhythm and rhyme and meaning
and music. I am the inkwell.
I am the pen.