Angel Rosen
–
Where you are is where I wish I was, it’s a big wish with no follow through.
I’m not on my way. I cannot be where you are. You’re not even there.
You can’t be where I am. I am not even here.
I wish I could fold the world up like a hand towel,
still warm from the dryer. All of it touching itself.
My hands give it a purpose.
I wish I could watch you. Doing nothing.
Stirring. Sending a payment on your iPhone.
Writing a word into a journal. Wondering if I could fit inside of that word.
I can shrink to be the size of “eventually.”
I wish I was close to you. Just enough to hear you sigh.
To see your hair fall down over your face.
The smallest thing to observe,
I would notice with enthusiasm—e.e. cummings said
“the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelids’ flutter,”—I want to think that,
but I would have to be there and I am not.
I could list all of my wishes, then call a genie.
I’d try to summon one with a lamp but start a fire instead.
Most people wish for health and wealth, when confronted by a genie.
I, however, just want to look at you.
That is all the riches and all the wellness I could possibly tolerate.
But you are far, and I am alone, as always—
Angel Rosen (she/her) is a lesbian, neurodivergent poet near the Allegheny River. She is passionate about queer friendship, Amanda Palmer’s art community, and sharing anecdotes. Her published poetry, including books, can be found at angelrosen.com.
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