FOUR POEMS by NAT RAUM
deep space
carefully constructed prose slips
away in the darkest corners of a red room
projected nostalgia onscreen (evidently
i’m madonna) like a quiet prayer
the devil on the wall winks back
fingertips tracing rings of pbr on a
laminate table (fingers through hair
tangled in sterling silver bands) scraping
the floor as cocktail napkins flutter
i cut my teeth on your caipirinha kiss
chaos meets eros
in the beginning (before
there was anything), there was
lust.
heavenly disarray,
encompass me and all that
surrounds me; leave me behind
in the folds of cotton
that separate your alabaster
silk from mine.
pull my hair,
need me.
four dollars on the coffee
table in a convenience store bag,
you on top of me, on top of you,
lemonade pricking at my
cold sores, stepford wives on
your laptop, kiss, come softly,
repeat as necessary.
is this it?
my mouth is longing with a desire that
scorches the earth, lips chapped and purple as
lilacs waiting to wilt
(i want to hear myself sing)
a candle’s saturated wick sizzles as smoke ascends
breathe in, breathe out
ice cracks under black leather boots
your taste lingers on the tongue like
nothing else ever could, cane sugar cola
and turmeric and
oh nostalgia, you little fiend
feet heavy as steel, steps light as laughter
day in, day out
i dance on a stage of needles
i fall on your pyre of roses
(i want to let myself scream)
what the body grasps
after ‘taro’ by alt-jabove the atlantic i am
chewing on your sweet mint
gum (my ears haven’t popped
once yet); i am
listening to the same
song on repeat to hear
the three lines that
make me think of you,
even though you are
right next to me poking my palm with
one hand and fiddling
with the seat recline
button with the other.
i never can help but
notice how far
away you feel from me
sometimes, like the nights you
pass out on my couch beyond
hope of waking up to caress
my hips while i fall asleep
next to you; i kiss your forehead
and still you rest, intangible
distance tugging at me softly.
(there are 30,000 feet between
me and this ocean; there are
three inches between you and me.)
nat raum (b.1996) is a queer disabled artist and writer from baltimore, md. they are a current mfa candidate at the university of baltimore. nat’s practice centers around their past trauma and subsequent c-ptsd diagnosis and has become a part of their healing process. recent projects have explored queer escapism and gender transition. they are the founder of darkside collective and fifth wheel press. nat is an avid fan of glass animals, noise-cancelling headphones, and bisexual lighting. Twitter.