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This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book “a Stretch of Highway” Down in the Dirt, v179 (the January 2021 Issue) Order the paperback book:

Order this writing that appears in the one-of-a-kind anthology Excerpts from the Plague Years the Down in the Dirt Jan.-April 2021 issues collection book		get the 420 page Jan.-April 2021 Down in the Dirt 6" x 9" ISBN# perfect-bound paperback book:

On Overcoming Gamophobia

Despy Boutris

Since your silence scares me, be roadkill,
be oil spill, be the elevator that stalled

on its way down. Let me learn to love
the quiet; let’s learn to speak without noise.

And since I despise tight spaces, locked
doors, uncertainty: lock us in a room in the dark,

or in a storm shelter–love, take me
subterranean and then take me, let me

take you. You know odd numbers make me
nervous, so how about I ghost the five fingers

of my left hand over all seven bones of your neck?
If I’m bonnet, be breeze and blow me

away. But take me with you. If I’m blind,
be shuddering breath, be the sound you make

when I touch your chest. If I’m oak, be Spanish
moss so we can grow together, so I can grow

rings to give you, so you can wrap yourself
around me. If I’m weed, be gardener

and uproot me. If I’m week, be -end
so we can spend Sunday morning in bed,

so we can bake bread. If I’m night,
be nightlight so I can find you in the dark.

If I’m crocus, be rainfall, be honeybee
and, honey, come be with me.

 

(first published in Byzantium)

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