Je te vois assise dans ta place. De cette scène je rêve encore.
I feel my heart on my tongue
An orthostatic pounding
I see as mother of pearl in poisoned moonlight.
Je me souviens – le goût de ton chocolat,
Rubbing of acrylic wool and bloody winter lips.
It is always the search for desperate words that returns,
The loving stumble of bending my cheeks, timing
My tongue with the gurgle of my throat,
Never looking too hard at one word. Ignore the night.
Comment je t’aimais. Si lentement. Si doucement. Et si sans doute.
Lilian McCarthy (she/they) is a disabled, queer, nonbinary woman who lives in Boston, MA and Dublin, Ireland. She is a Masters candidate in Comparative Literature at Trinity College Dublin. She enjoys fabric arts, painting, playing with animals, writing, and translating French and Italian work. Lilian works primarily in free verse and short fiction. Her writing attempts to capture how it feels to exist in her disabled and queer body. She has been published in The Gay and Lesbian Review Worldwide, Matter Press: Journal of Compressed Creative Arts, Ricochet Review, and others. Contact: firstname.lastname@example.org Website: lilianrosemccarthy.me