Rebels don’t Rewind Jan 24, 2014

by Yonnas T Getahun

Couldn't turn my back elsewhere. And I couldn't climb into your body any longer. I had bewitched myself with something that wasn't mine to take or glorify. A current as wild as the damn it breaks. ‘The electricity of our bodies.’ And I am here to hear the muse.

Your running heart, your wild river running heart,
the honey I burned at your circumference
looking back I laugh with your shirt under my armpits.

O howling verb enacted on me
O howling verb embodied take your toll on me
kiss kept from the deviating anomaly
imageless standard, gold adjunct.

your admission emblems the magic yet crawling
beans and brackets, pearls and kisses,
dragging in shyness with handful of curls.

The frontier on the wall, distant and cold, dispersing insurrection
not asking for permission on a pedestal waiving a ticket
with our words facing to nowhere. Confronted. Obsolete. Absolvable
in duress, transacted. What was rewindable?

The abandoned torque kept where we are guarded.

I know nothing of your crucible nudity.
It tells me nothing. All frontiers
the parts, the charade iridescent,
the grazing that must be done.
Fuck your grace and the tumultuous disdain.
I want to look away but I am incorrigible.

Rebels don’t rewind
the particulars of distaste
may I have this graceless dance?

The fire caterpillars, the fire caterpillars,
with only three words to say,
must we repent?