Round Three

This piece was submitted by a very talented first year by the name of Ruth Fuller! We believe her writing is great and can only get better! We hope you think the same, because this is only round one.

Round Three

Ruth Fuller

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I did not know anything could melt at such a low temperature

but here we are:

 

me:

envious of every dust particle

that has the privilege of brushing even the

back

of your knees

while you tell me that you like all the things you can feel

with five fingers splayed across

my chest

while you finish

painting me a mid-sentence teeth and tongue masterpiece

I could die this way:

keep painting—

(i will never dry)

keep painting—

while I fantasize about you reading me

the dictionary cover to cover

Just so I can drown inside your phonetic hurricane

Rip my seams

with your teeth

turn me over as many times as you like

inspect every inch of me

you will not find a crack in my adoration.

 

By round three I’ve got a pretty damn good idea of where the edge is

And just how

 

slowly

 

I can bring you to it

But I will warn you:

Its deadly to reduce a person to their most primal needs

 

You should know by now that I will

draw poems

on the back of your neck in sharpie

That make Dickinson anthologies look like amateur hour

It’s easy when I’ve got such naked inspiration

 

Break me    and I will

willingly

 

shatter

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