Two Poems

The Tuesday you Give Some ______

when you danced on tuesday

you told her in your panties

that you didn’t much uh huh

to lingerie but you would (if she asked)


when you put your lips against hers

you didn’t hear any push away or pull (either)

but you inhaled/like a old school dyke sucking on a pall mall

in the middle of the alaska afternoon/snow bunny


when you put your finger in the middle of her nowhere

you pulled out nothing but change/how you offered her

your two cents(sense) in exchange for anything feeling worthy


& you have decided to make this a ritual:

1.       make it warm in your room

2.      wear a pair of sexy panties

3.      tell yourself you’ll fuck in the sun

4.      imagine yourself worthy (of all the things)


The Book of Things You Do Not Talk About

you cannot head scratch when you decided leg crossed on leg equaled pleasure or when you knew your fingers were not meant to go inside (yourself) you are clear that some parts of yourself are forbidden like pausing on a busy day like reading at work like taking a shit in a strangers bathroom you cannot understand why masturbation is such a long word for such a quick fix or why cum is such a short word for a thing you cannot easily achieve (but one month & one time & one space) why your clitoris won’t let you explain all there is to know() crossed legs like the holy cross like an ankh inside your jeans like hotep (you wanna be at ease) come to peace with this—& all the women say try ___ or ___ or ___ or___ or ( )& you know you are not one of those women & you know it isn’t about getting off but getting it isn't about destination & if you ask (yourself) what the problem is she will say once upon a time a ___ did ___ & that's when ___ & you will act like nuh uh! you will act like you are making it up like you didn’t compute this properly like you never crossed this part like mary at the cross (baby jesus in a thong) like cross you heart & swear to gawd like criss-cross-apple-sauce like cross you out like cross word puzzle like crossing the river jourdan like you double-crossed (me) leg crossed equals pleasure & pleasure is just pain but with less edge like the only difference between luck & fuck is how it begins like the only difference between blank & black is how well you don’t see (cross cross cross cross cross cross cross cross cross cross cross)


Song: Do I Move You by Nina Simone



Claudia Chelo was born in the heart of the Mediterranean, in Sardinia, where she studied at the Academy of Fine Arts. She likes thinking that her black and white illustrations are 'such stuff as dreams are made on' between origami, starry skies, pure love and fluffy clouds. Follow her and her dreamland on Instagram: @claudia_ch93

Anastacia Renee is a queer super-shero of color moonlighting as a writer, performance artist and creative writing workshop facilitator. She has received awards and fellowships from Cave Canem, Hedgebrook, VONA, Jack Straw, Ragdale and Artist Trust. Her poetry, fiction and nonfiction has been published widely.