Untitled for now by Audra Crago
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Untitled for now by Audra Crago

Untitled for now by Audra Crago

I want to be a Girl 

The way that angels are girls:

With flowing white cotton hugging waists,

Bare feet that won’t be made to bleed by the glass they step on.

Ephemeral physicality, but a forever impression.

But I am only a girl

In that I blush when you say my name,

in that I pinch my skin where I find something I

don’t like,

In that I’ve cried in seven fitting rooms

And then blamed it on the skinny bitches in the 

checkout line.

I want to be a Boy

The way that they appear:

Leaning languidly against windowpanes,

Hair dripping rain and coffee breath that’s still sweet.

He moves like he knows how:

In an unpredictable way.

An unattainable way.

Even his knuckles seem gentle

As they brush my cheek.

But I am only a boy

In that I often wish I was.

In that I can’t skip stones but always wanted to

know how.

In that I longed to be reckless in the way he was,

Because part of me always felt proud of

The scrapes on my knees.

I want to love a Girl

The way I did when I first discovered them:

With flower crowns and blankets over shoulders,

The alcoholic scent of polish being removed.

She unravels my hair, deft

Deaf to my best attempts to stay braided.

But I love a girl

In that I do until I don’t.

I reject her like an organ

When the fever gets too high

And strip the bed

As soon as she leaves.

I want to love a Boy

The way Liepke paints them:

Hands travelling over the valleys of a ribcage,

My own curls tangled with his.

When he lays his head in my lap,

I am as much for him as he is for me.

But I love a boy

In that Dorian way:

With the ugly in the attic

And  both of you under the sheets–

It’s almost better than the real thing.


But if I am honest

I would just as gladly take your hand in mine

And call it a day.

And if I am honest,

Walking on glass doesn’t hurt anymore

Since I started taking my coffee with my cream.