Salena Casha’s Poetry

Sep 14, 2017 by

Salena Casha’s Poetry

I Want to See Myself the Way a Lover Does

I want to see the sheet
slide off whitened skin
at the tug of an invisible hand


onto the chilled floor in a puddle
we skirt like rainwater.

I want to see the freckles like constellations charted
across a back that when traced with fingernail
sew together a map in red lines
to the body
of stars.

I want to arch away to see the whole of myself
from above like a God staring at his creation
but close enough to scent the dewy breath of
Its exhaling creature and say
“I built this…
…This thing
full of love and tissue and bone and sinew and wet
unexplored darkness.”

I want to knead and press the skin
Of myself as myself above myself
As you would with your fingers searching,
stroking, pulsing
Until I can no longer tell
Whose hand I’m holding
To my body.

And I will subsist on touch
As a lover would in diet,
The prickle of pimpled flesh on chest
On breast
On hip
On heart
On bone.

And gasp at the implosion of something somewhere
So bright it tattoos my retnas

Not to ruin the image in the mind
But to bind the image of the way I lie
In a bed
With the window half-open
As you move across the room
to light me up inside.

Salena Casha’s work has appeared in over fifty publications, has been nominated for a pushcart, and appeared in the Top 50 Short Fictions of 2015.

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