I was untouched I was sitting friendless in a Jesus chair
and Matt was onstage sucking chocolate from Wendy’s toes.
I knew I would never be Wendy. The envy was thicker than my bible.
I’m still sitting in that chair watching Matt suck chocolate from Wendy’s toes.
The envy makes my feet itch inside sweaty red heels.
No one smells me. No one tells me anything new.
A light shone all over me once but no one saw it.
I was never the moon.
I’m eleven, too, and looking through the trailer window
at a Frito truck as C. F. Rainwater holds onto me, sobbing.
My grandfather is drunk and wishing my parents were still together.
I’m wishing I were on a much less heated planet, cool inside a private sea.
There’s a boat I’ll never ride. A soul mate is born in Calcutta every thousand years.
My soul mate, Benji the dolphin trainer, died of natural causes when I was thirteen.
I’ve always been lucky for a white girl with white cream gravy on my chin
and pastel hearts so cute and sassy all over my knickers.
In other words I am much too ancient and noble to be your bitch
but thank you kind sir
for the sweet invitation.
roxixmas 