By: Elaine Mei
Art by: Shena Han
“There’s a name for the animal
love makes of us — named, I think,
like rain, for the sound it makes.” — Nicole Sealey, “Object Permanence”
ANIMAL ENOUGH
When I ask if this
animal is enough for you, what I mean:
Will you meet me at the edge
of the water, will you bow on all fours
and drink with me? Will you pull my skin
open and dip your tongue, carmine
and bitter inside?
Can I claim you?
Can I claim you?
Don’t I feast on death
and love it all the same?
Don’t I make love
look easy?
Don’t the kudzu vines cradle
my ankles like a small child,
and don’t I keep God close
to my chest, don’t I make a choir
of crown daisies sing
when I pass?
“He’s all hollow! the devil giggles.
He knows his job will be easy, a human just one long desperation
to be filled.” — Kaveh Akbar, “My Father’s Accent”
ENOUGH, ANIMAL
Sorry, I didn’t mean to
eat it all before the rest of them
got any. It was just sitting there
it was so good I couldn’t
stop myself. I mean I really,
really couldn’t stop myself.
I could never help biting down on
the hands that feed me. I stake
claims on my property. I take
responsibility for my own stink,
my sodden, my sting, as long as
I can stand to eat, my
God, I’ll lap up your muck I’ll lick
the doorknobs if I have to I’ll rub
that slate clean. And then,
there was rain. And love
made me clean again.
Comments