Fox Henry Frazier: Is It True?

Is it true, what I’ve heard about your mouth?

I’ve never wanted to kiss a man like you, not even
when we were twenty years old and everyone

we knew wanted to kiss you,
but for some reason I want to

know what my name feels like in your throat &
whether you’ve ever had the impulse to tell me

something tender, or wished you could
spit in my mouth while your weight is spread

out on top of my body.
I’ve been wanting

something to crush me, lately. It’s not
my crush on you, or even how I hate

that I have a crush at all. It’s that the person
I loved more than anyone

should ever love anyone else
did things to my body and my

heart that made me
nothing. Made me

void. I am still

Have you ever

wanted to drag your teeth along the edge
of my shoulder blade and savor

my uncontrollable shudder? Your breath perfectly
slow against the back of my neck? Into what

language did your tongue curl the cruelest
thing you’ve ever said? To whom did you say it?

Would you take it back now, if you could? What
haunts you? Last time I asked a man that question, I was

tangled in his arms, naked & safe, and he confessed
to murder. Then the intranquil spirit of his victim

possessed his body and tried to kill me. He failed
but may succeed yet because I’m pretty sure he

finally broke me. You know what that feels like? I didn’t think of you
when Cody died. I wept alone in my bed and then I called Saba, who was

in Texas, at a museum with her family. She knew
from my voice it was serious, that it couldn’t wait.

She stepped away, I told her, and we cried. I could
have said something to you, probably, about how sad I was, then,

but I couldn’t have told you about my husband
punching a hole through our bedroom door

one Sunday morning, a few weeks earlier, enraged
because he thought I was being too quiet. I have often

been proud of the fact that I can cry
in perfect silence. I’ve never

wanted to be with someone who says
the kinds of things you say. I’ve never

wanted the attention of a man who is willing to cry, or to talk
about crying in an unembarrassed way. And you? Have you ever wanted

someone this damaged? Of course not. Who could?
And you don’t. I know. But do you want to someday

hold the door open for me,
maybe? Your mouth moving

into the shape of a smile because you
want to smile at me? Saying something

like, I’ve been waiting for someone
exactly like you. Something like,

I’m so glad you’re finally here.

Fox Henry Frazier walks on the earth and in the water.

rbd