Rachelle Toarmino

You Up?
you up?
you think food would taste different
         if you ate it underwater? how long you
                   think magic hour lasts for on Neptune?
                           what do you think cellulite would look
                                    ​like on fish? can you believe olives are
                           a fruit? you ever notice that OM is, okay,
                  yes, the sound of the universe, but also
         the sound literally every little kid makes
when speaking into a fan?
you up? you ever think about how
         English maybe isn’t our first language?
                  the way I’m sitting right now is my
                           first language. the way I bring my
                  hand to your jaw line is my first language. the
         way I become movement inside
your hands is my first language.
you up? did your mom ever make you
         talk to shit? my mom imbued life into
                  every corner and crumb of my small
                           world, and now as an adult woman
                                    my heart breaks every time I find
                           an empty snail shell, or for the worms
                  on rainy mornings who aren’t going
         to have enough time to make it to
the other side of the driveway.
you up? you ever feel like when you
         fall in love it’s just this feeling of having
                  known someone before, but also of
                           wanting to find out how much time you can
                                    kill counting the pockets and handles you
                           can make together with your bodies? there’s
                  the age-old that goes love is forgetting
         about death, but when I’m with you
I also forget about the internet.
you up? how do you arrange your
         apps, by the way? what’s your
                  favorite shade of blue? sometimes
                           when men talk about themselves I
                                    like to imagine I’m transcribing their
                                             monologues in my head and I like
                                                      to picture how many page breaks
                                             I have to make. I file them into a mental
                                    folder called Brief Interviews with Hideous
                           Men. but with you I would take the things
                  you say and I would stick them inside a
         leaf book. did I ever tell you about the time
a dude asked me to be his scribe for him?
you up? why are people who love
         each other still sending each other
                  heart emojis when there’s the shooting
                           star emoji? the sunset on the horizon emoji?
                                    I want to trace an excel sheet over your
                           body and share it with you on Google
                  Drive. I want to do with you what
         night does to the smell of the
ground by morning.


originally published in Shabby Doll House