Palentine’s Day
Eli Jack Lynch
–
It’s minus forty in Montreal so we all sit (minus you) around the cat pee
smelling faded yellow couch in my bedroom and Avi asks the room
how do you know when you have a crush and Nour and Freddie say
they rarely have crushes, don’t think about people as more than just friends
until there’s this oddly debilitating sparkly feeling where you can’t be
bothered to move your limbs even if they’re uncomfortably numb because
they are touching the other person, even just a little bit, and my leg is touching
Freddie’s leg and I’m getting those spark body feelings and I don’t answer Avi’s
question because it’s Palentine’s day and you didn’t press attending to the event on
Facebook and I might just be feeling horny but I can’t tell and Seth is saying she just
likes people that are good and strong while Freddie’s leg is touching my leg and
it’s too tingly and it’s too hot in my apartment even though the window is ice frozen
in an almost thematically appropriate heart shape except it’s lopsided and Freddie
leans in a bit closer and my leg is maybe just numb from sitting on it as I listen
to Avi explain their attraction to everyone in their queer tango class, Nour and
Freddie roll their eyes, give knowing chuckles, my body moving as Freddie’s leg
vibrates with her body laugh, her leg still touching my leg while I’m thinking I want
you to be good and strong for me but could you ever be good and strong, did I say
my leg is still tingling and that Freddie is still leaning and I’m sort of blushing but maybe my apartment is just too warm and maybe I’m just horny on Palentine’s day
Eli Jack Lynch is a Creative Writing student at Concordia finishing their degree very soon. They have been published in Subversions: A Journal of Feminist Queries, The Void, Headlight Anthology and on Metatron’s ÖMËGÄ blog. They are part of the Spectra Journal collective. In their spare time, they are known for stealing clothing and Tweeting (here) about being gay and/or sad and/or a poet.
Photograph provided by Loni Jeffs.
