Like most stupid ideas it starts with wanting

a search with my mouth
through a snowdrift
for something firm

I want her like Napoleon wants chickens

like Neopolitan ice cream
one flavour at a time
and all at once

I want her like Elena Ferrante’s
popular Neopolitan novels

fiercely anonymous

claiming genius for women

like a sparkler held against the gas burner
to light the mosquito coil outside
white wine drunk
the bottom of my glass a star
bursting from my eye

I’m lukewarm water
and she’s the bottom of a bathtub

I’m binoculars
and she’s a view clear through
to the neighbours’ house
where some anonymous fuckboy
is lifting weights with the blinds open

I’m a bright spiral of biro
asking questions
and she always answers

a flick of the tail


I want him like certain wooden things I can’t name
dusting up my grandparent’s garage
hand-lathed and lain out on towels among the oil stains
where the car has been parked

I want him like
I want to disappear
to get a regular amount of sleep
and eat my greens
breathe deep from my lungs

the full amount, the whole iceberg

I want to disappear

home brew puttering in the corner
a small motored boat
hung in the roof

his hands down my pants
as waves thrash below

I can’t help but look over my shoulder


I want them like
of course

my dog’s eyelashes

the warm press of shoulders side by side

a piece of toast landing face up
or the feeling of finally replacing the vacuum bag

a parrot with the gams of an angel
kicks its high heels off for the crowd

why wouldn’t you want this?

I don’t understand the lines
we draw around love

a hand tracing a hand tracing a handjob

I watch a skywriter spell out ‘NO’
on its blue canvas
imagining the next word will be ‘YES’

do you like me?
circle one


About the author

Bridget Lutherborrow is a writer and editor currently living in Melbourne. She recently completed a PhD in creative writing at the University of Wollongong, for which she submitted a novel about Scottish lumberjills and a sentient signet ring. She is fiction editor for Scum Mag and tweets erratically at @birtiledge

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