After Richard Siken & Jane Huffman

An electron needs to spin up and another needs to spin down for them to

be paired together. They’ll have a net magnetic field of zero. On this FaceTime

call, you’re explaining electromagnetism to me. My mind is on asking you to

dance with me someday, despite the fact that you told me I can’t

even keep time to save my life. Well, it’s all good. Memories end up

festering when I’ve tried keeping time. Let me explain. My

God, do you remember how once, we shared a

hug so complete that I could almost taste the

indelibly warm, sweet scent of your nape? I

just need another minute there. You can take me back. Once, I said your

kind of ambition scares me. You said I want adrenaline, a

little bit of power to keep me going. I couldn’t

muster the courage to say that adrenaline is

not what you need, and that I would help you take it slow.

Once, you said you liked Richard Siken. Now his

poem “Meanwhile” spirals in my head whenever I look at you. I’m

quite into it’s green, it’s still green, like this promised April

reaped by the sun. I can’t bring myself to greet

spring the same as it comes around the block. Every

time I’ve tried, I’m reminded of the hidden flowers on your shirts,

underneath your hoodie. I make up things that I would never say. I say them

very quietly. Siken again, forgive me. I don’t know

when I will be able to let go. It feels like

xenography, the way I’m grafting my tissue onto

yours, only to discover that we’re different species. Our electrons continue

zig zagging around each other. No net magnetic field in sight.