by Rupi Kaur
excited and terrified for what’s to come
he smiles
knows this is what satisfaction looks like
i am a switchboard
he is the circuits
my hips move with his—rhythmic
my voice isn’t my own when i moan—it is music
like fingers on a violin string
he sparks enough electricity within me to power a city
when we finish i look right at him
and tell him
that was magic
when i walked into the coffee shop and saw you. my body did not react like it had the first time. i waited for my heart to abandon me. for my legs to freeze up. to fall to the ground crying at your sight. nothing happened. there was no connection or movement inside when we locked eyes. you looked like a regular guy with your regular clothes and regular coffee. nothing profound about you. i don’t give myself enough credit. my body must have cleansed itself of you long ago. must have gotten tired of me behaving like i’d lost the best thing to have happened. and wrung the insecurities out while i was busy wallowing in pity. that day i had no makeup on. my hair was all over the place. i was wearing my brother’s old t-shirt and pajama pants. yet i felt like a gleaming siren. a mermaid. i did a little dance in the car while driving home. even though we were both under the same roof of that coffee shop. i was still solar systems away from you.
the orange trees refused to blossom
unless we bloomed first
when we met
they wept tangerines
can’t you tell
the earth has waited its whole life for this
- celebration
why am i always running in circles
between wanting you to want me
and when you want me
deciding it is too emotionally naked
for me to live with
why do i make loving me so difficult
as if you should never have to witness
the ghosts i have tucked under my breast
i used to be more open
when it came to matters like this my love
- if only we’d met when i was that willing
i could not contain myself any longer
i ran to the ocean
in the middle of the night
and confessed my love for you to the water
as i finished telling her
the salt in her body became sugar
(ode to sobha singh’s sohni mahiwal)
i say maybe this is a mistake. maybe we need more than love to make this work.
you place your lips on mine. when our faces are buzzing with the ecstasy of kissing you say tell me that isn’t right. and as much as i’d like to think with my head. my racing heart is all that makes sense. there. right there is the answer you’re looking for. in my loss of breath. my lack of words. my silence. my inability to speak means you’ve filled my stomach with so many butterflies that even if this is a mistake. it could only be right to be this wrong with you.
a
man
who cries
- a gift
if i’m going to share my life with a partner
it would be foolish not to ask myself
twenty years from now
is this person going to be
someone i still laugh with
or am i just distracted by their charm
do i see us evolving into
new people by the decade
or does the growing ever come to a pause
i don’t want to be distracted
by the looks or the money
i want to know if they pull
the best or the worst out of me
deep at the core are our values the same
in thirty years will we still
jump into bed like we’re twenty
can i picture us in old age
conquering the world
like we’ve got young blood
running in our veins
- checklist
what is it with you and sunflowers he asks
i point to the field of yellow outside
sunflowers worship the sun i tell him
only when it arrives do they rise
when the sun leaves
they bow their heads in mourning
that is what the sun does to those flowers
it’s what you do to me
- the sun and her flowers
sometimes
i stop myself from
saying the words out loud
as if leaving my mouth too often
might wear them down
- i love you
the most important conversations
we’ll have are with our fingers
when yours nervously graze mine
for the first time during dinner
they’ll tighten with fear
when you ask to see me again next week
but as soon as i say yes
they’ll stretch out in ease
when they grasp one another
while we’re beneath the sheets
the two of us will pretend
we’re not weak in the knees
when i get angry
they’ll pulse with bitter cries
but when they tremble for forgiveness
you’ll see what apologies look like
and when one of us is dying
on a hospital bed at eighty-five
your fingers will grip mine
to say things words can’t describe
- fingers
this morning
i told the flowers
what i’d do for you
and they blossomed
there is no place
i end and you begin
when your body
is in my body
we are one person
- sex
if i had to walk to get to you
it would take eight hundred and twenty-six hours
on bad days i think about it
what i might do if the apocalypse comes
and the planes stop flying
there is so much time to think
so much empty space wanting to be consumed
but no intimacy around to consume it
it feels like being stuck at a train station
waiting and waiting and waiting
for the one with your name on it
when the moon rises on this coast
but the sun still burns shamelessly on yours
i crumble knowing even our skies are different
we have been together so long
but have we really been together if
your touch has not held me long enough
to imprint itself on my skin
i try my hardest to stay present
but without you here
everything at its best
is only mediocre
- long distance
i am
made of water
of course i am emotional
they should feel like home
a place that grounds your life
where you go to take the day off
- the one
the moon is responsible
for pulling tides
out of still water
darling
i am the still water
and you are the moon
the right one does not
stand in your way
they make space for you
to step forward
when y
ou are
full
and i am
full
we are two suns
your voice does to me
what autumn does to trees
you call to say hello
and my clothes fall naturally
together we are an endless conversation
when death
takes my hand
i will hold you with the other
and promise to find you
in every lifetime
- commitment
it was as though
someone had slid ice cubes
down the back of my shirt
- orgasm
you have
been
inside me
before
- another lifetime
god must have kneaded you and i
from the same dough
rolled us out as one on the baking sheet
must have suddenly realized
how unfair it was
to put that much magic in one person
and sadly split that dough in two
how else is it that
when i look in the mirror
i am looking at you
when you breathe
my own lungs fill with air
that we just met but we
have known each other our whole lives
if we were not made as one to begin with
- our souls are mirrors
to be
two legs
on one body
- a relationship
you must have a
honeycomb
for a heart
how else
could a man
be this sweet
if you got any more beautiful
the sun would leave its place
and come for you
- the chase
it has been one of the greatest and most difficult years of my life. i learned everything is temporary. moments. feelings. people. flowers. i learned love is about giving. everything. and letting it hurt. i learned vulnerability is always the right choice because it is easy to be cold in a world that makes it so very difficult to remain soft. i learned all things come in twos. life and death. pain and joy. salt and sugar. me and you. it is the balance of the universe. it has been the year of hurting so bad but living so good. making friends out of strangers. making strangers out of friends. learning mint chocolate chip ice cream will fix just about everything. and for the pains it can’t there will always be my mother’s arms. we must learn to focus on warm energy. always. soak our limbs in it and become better lovers to the world. for if we can’t learn to be kind to each other how will we ever learn to be kind to the most desperate parts of ourselves.
the universe took its time on you
crafted you to offer the world
something different from everyone else
when you doubt
how you were created
you doubt an energy greater than us both
- irreplaceable
when the first woman spread her legs
to let the first man in
what did he see
when she led him down the hallway
toward the sacred room
what sat waiting
what shook him so deeply
that all confidence shattered
from then on
the first man
watched the first woman
every night and day
built a cage to keep her in
so she could sin no more
he set fire to her books
called her witch
and shouted whore
until the evening came
when his tired eyes betrayed him
the first woman noticed it
as he unwillingly fell asleep
the quiet humming
the drumming
a knocking between her legs
a doorbell
a voice
a pulse
asking her to open up
and off her hand went running
down the hall
toward the sacred room
she found
god
the magician’s wand
the snake’s tongue
sitting inside her smiling
- when the first woman drew magic with her fingers
i will no longer
compare my path to others
- i refuse to do a disservice to my life
i am the product of all the ancestors getting together
and deciding these stories need to be told
many tried
but failed to catch me
i am the ghost of ghosts
everywhere and nowhere
i am magic tricks
within magic within magic
none have figured out
i am a world wrapped in worlds
folded in suns and moons
you can try but
you won’t get those hands on me
upon my birth
my mother said
there is god in you
can you feel her dancing
(ode to matisse’s dance)
as a father of three daughters
it would have been normal
for him to push marriage on us
this has been the narrative for
the women in my culture for hundreds of years
instead he pushed education
knowing it would set us free
in a world that wanted to contain us
he made sure that we learned
to walk independently
there are far too many mouths here
but not enough of them are worth
what you’re offering
give yourself to a few
and to those few
give heavily
- invest in the right people
i am of the earth
and to the earth i shall return once more
life and death are old friends
and i am the conversation between them
i am their late-night chatter
their laughter and tears
what is there to be afraid of
if i am the gift they give to each other
this place never belonged to me anyway
i have always been theirs
to hate
is an easy lazy thing
but to love
takes strength
everyone has
but not all are
willing to practice
beautiful brown girl
your thick hair is a mink coat not all can afford
beautiful brown girl
you hate the hyperpigmentation
but your skin can’t help
carrying as much sun as possible
you are a magnet for the light
unibrow—the bridging of two worlds
vagina—so much darker than the rest of you
cause it is trying to hide a gold mine
you will have dark circles too early
—appreciate the halos
beautiful brown girl
you pull god out of their bellies
look down at your body
whisper
there is no home like you
- thank you
learning to not envy
someone else’s blessings
is what grace looks like
r /> i am the first woman in my lineage with freedom of choice. to craft her future whichever way i choose. say what is on my mind when i want to. without the whip of the lash. there are hundreds of firsts i am thankful for. that my mother and her mother and her mother did not have the privilege of feeling. what an honor. to be the first woman in the family who gets to taste her desires. no wonder i am starving to fill up on this life. i have generations of bellies to eat for. the grandmothers must be howling with laughter. huddled around a mud stove in the afterlife. sipping on steaming glasses of milky masala chai. how wild it must be for them to see one of their own living so boldly.
(ode to amrita sher-gil’s village scene 1938)
trust your body
it reacts to right and wrong
better than your mind does
- it is speaking to you
i stand
on the sacrifices
of a million women before me
thinking
what can i do
to make this mountain taller
so the women after me
can see farther
- legacy
when i go from this place
dress the porch with garlands
as you would for a wedding my dear
pull the people from their homes
and dance in the streets
when death arrives
like a bride at the aisle
send me off in my brightest clothing
serve ice cream with rose petals to our guests
there’s no reason to cry my dear
i have waited my whole life
for such a beauty to take
my breath away
when i go
let it be a celebration
for i have been here