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woelita Jan 1
it's that kind of  deep winter
you know when you can see the air
when someone speaks
and it almost looks as if their words
are going to freeze over   and become immortalized
in the air

i remember what you said one night
when we were in your car on the mountain
just barely hidden from the city
and the windows of the car were shut
and they looked almost  frosted over in the same way
they do in winter

but it was late fall  just before the onset
of early winter  
so they were foggy for reasons  
unrelated to the weather

and you could barely see the couple smoking a joint
and watching us from across the parking lot

i remember   you spoke into my neck and you said

*** for daddy


woelita Jan 1
like sweet nectar
your memory falls into the space
between  my eyes and   for a minute
i can taste the sweetness
of being 22
and getting ****** in the back of your van

and hearing the soft roar of the atlantic ocean
of that tide guided by the cosmos
and the soft roar of your breath  
hot and humid  next to my ear lobe
woelita Dec 2020
i don’t have big dreams
i dream of a small window
that creaks just a little bit when i push it open
to let in the summertime breeze
at 2 am when the room is too hot
and you’re sleeping on the bed with one sock on

and there’s kids outside playing soccer in the summer time
while their older siblings are trading cigarettes and wiping off red lip stick
before they go back home,
like it’s a rite of passage

i drink my coffee and i feel ancient,
looking down on them
like a bird’s eye  taking it all in at once
i have this silly little worry
that i’ve used up all of my beginnings
that i’ve used up all my happiness

happiness is intangible
simultaneously complex and
  utter simplicity
it’s in the space between not having any answers
    and not needing them

and yet here we are
years after i asked the question
years after you stopped avoiding it
and still
there is a ghost in my bed in the shape of you
you haunt me for comfort
i welcome you because i fear loneliness

but it’s not that summer on the island
anymore  we both know this
no  we’re much older now
and i take my coffee black and drive my car to work
and the kids have kids
and they play soccer in the summertime
woelita Apr 2018
A casualty in your quest to healing.

(on the bright side i love a good classic trope)

I’m busy killing this new found vulnerability. You and I were a sort of experiment with tenderness. Until it turned ******, violent.

(****** the love right out of me and then skipped town, but I like that)

There’s a certain catharsis in hurting someone who loves you.

(I think so, yeah.)
woelita Feb 2018
The covers move on top of me. I roll on my side, groaning, and open one eye to scan the room for the culprit. Immediate regret. A dull grey light is spilling through the fourth story window, the kind that’s not-quite-sunny but still bright enough to kickstart today’s hangover. A camera falls from the bed-side table and the source reveals itself: Anna’s cat, a tabby, nameless and found mysteriously missing a tail near Saint Denis street four years ago. More groaning, but being more awake than not, I kick the covers off me and look at my phone. December 30th. Scared to check my texts, I’m suddenly flooded with the memory of drunkenly messaging friends I hadn’t spoken to in years, hoping they hadn’t succeeded in overcoming their weekend MDMA habit. Most of the replies went as expected: “Who’s this?”
“No one” I text back, throwing a pillow at my friend, finding an injustice in the fact that I was woken up by her nameless, tail-less cat.
“I know you’re awake.”  
She looks up, smiles sheepishly. When she gets up, the light catches the right side of her face and I can still see patches of glitter. I smile. Say, “I can’t believe this is the last time I’m going to see you.”
“I can’t believe I’m still wearing the same make up I had on three nights ago,” she shoots back.
“Always the sentimentalist,” I tease.
“Yeah, yeah. You’re coming to visit me anyway.” Right.

I smile nervously. Somehow it felt like I was breaking up with someone after a six year relationship. Not the kind where you’re necessarily in love with the person, but the kind you stay in out of comfort and because you don’t know where else to go.

11:51 AM
That morning we walked to a local cafe on Rue Ontario, the one we’ve passed by almost every Friday night for the past two years, sometimes dressed to go to the dep and argue over what mixes best with peach *****, other times wearing Red lipstick, laughing in the 3 am August breeze, cars honking and men gesturing for us to come closer (laughing, you explained to me once, if you’re from around here then you know about Rue Ontario.)

Joi de Vivre. Joy of ******* for cheap. Missed opportunities. Never realizing my full potential. My wife, she doesn’t love me no more.


I know what kind of girl you are.


*****, where are you going?


Frigid ****. Don’t go asking for it.

Dead pan.  “I’m fifteen, *******”

His turn. Laughing.

If you’re fifteen then I’m going to jail tonight!

11:52 AM

We order four polish donuts and coffee, sprinkled with cinnamon. “For the special occasion,” she tells the man behind the counter. Paul. I’m hit with the notion that I probably wont see Paul again either. My feet feel light, I forget my name. Forget to thank the barista as she hands me my coffee. We find a table next to an arrangement of biscuits with all the ingredients labeled in Polish, exchange stories about the first time we realized our vaginas could lubricate themselves. We exchange stories about the day we were born.

“Use protection!” I yell as she walks off. “Never,” she winks.

I forget my name.

That night she's on a flight to Portugal to be with a boy who’s just too busy to see her.

February 2, 2018
12:32 AM
But we’re so in love.
He’s just been really busy.

2:52 AM
I was so, so, busy.
Read √√

I’m sorry,
I’m so so sorry.

Find your friends!

Search: Anna

Location: 3,263 miles away.

February 11, 2018

I wear Red lipstick, wake up with glitter on my face. Laughing, laughing.
Hi! I'm annoyed that I can't remember how to use bold or italics on this site. If someone knows how to do this, please share as I feel like they are important in this particular piece. Thank you! <3

(I'm bad at being a millennial)
woelita Jan 2018
I kiss him and it’s the first time that it doesn’t feel like I am watching my body from the other side of the room.

Watching my body be submissive

I kiss him and my body takes and wants and is

and is

and will be

i’m sitting on a park bench having a cigarette with my best friend and i don’t know i’m in love with him yet

i’m consoling my best friend as he tells me about The Girl who broke his heart and my body nods in understanding, but I don’t know why yet

it’s four am and I just want to sleep but you’re in a different timezone and you’re drunk and you wont stop texting me and it’s four am and I don’t want to sleep

it’s December and you just got back and we’re sitting at your kitchen table and our eyes are glistening and you’re telling me about your childhood but then your hand is on my thigh and you’re telling me about the Red light District and how I make you feel dangerous

And we’re laughing about that time we were so drunk we almost kissed and we’re laughing a little too much and then your mouth is on my mouth and it’s two months later and i’m crying in your car and you’re standing a calculated distance away from me and your hands are in your pockets and my hands are in your pockets and I go home biting my lip

and i go home and i am watching my body from the other side of the room
woelita Jan 2018
****. I’ve come undone in your arms. under your sweet breath. my back arches and i submit to each one of my little deaths. my thighs hold little worlds in them and you were born a voyageur, a vagabond. Feed to me my little deaths; these forbidden ecstasies. each one finding its way back into you, into you. and out again. This is where it ends, isn’t it?
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