Paris Jessie
The Disengagement of Debris
My palm / runs into the cave of my belly / it overturns / as if / surrendering leaf / pupil traces
vein / reading of foggy incantations along a lush / green trail / mountains are calling / mountains
are calling / boom boom boom boom / cough up some black and blue / that make campfire in my
esophagus / chimney up to voice box / that is to say / strum my vocal cords / knock the wind out
of my trachea / well / i did request to fold / inwardly / and so / that thing / prowls a bit less
Meridian
to stand bare, as in warm, black,
soundless
let you feel me without contact
my vibrations ride the canals
sprinkled in your ears
taking a seat
something of a
bee hummingbird
how I’m sweetly here
perched at your oval window
yet, what also comes are my defeats
stuck neatly around my collarbone
even I feel out of my own reach
do not forget the echoes of
whole other black bodies
they barge in with a midnight chill
honey, that is by way of the deep sea
and beyond me
I imagine rain spilling from my fingernails
because
while they’ve never dug into my skin
well, they have had to run across it and
“go through the motions”
more times than I’d like to account for
but, you know,
still, this body is
a loud, rumbling crest
of golden sawdust
yes, carried away, sometimes, flowing
daringly
Paris Jessie (they/she) is a black, queer bodied wanderer. Much of their work is rooted in the peculiar. You may find more at iamparisjessie.com
