Erase You

I wrote something. Yay. It started because  the ‘blazon’ has been on my mind lately, due to my TA lecture. The ‘blazon’ is a technique where a poet or prose writer lists off different body parts, usually comparing each one to something else (something beautiful, if you’re in the Renaissance). It’s an interesting concept that not only leads to some beautiful poetry, but also brings to mind Laura Mulvey’s theory about the ‘gaze.’ (Highly suggest looking it up. It’s glorious.)

So.


I release you.
From the slope of my nose to my cupid’s bow,
from the palms of my hands to my outstretched fingertips,
from the base of my neck to the curve of my spine—
from each place that you’ve kissed,
and every grid of skin that you’ve mapped with adjectives of your findings.
I release you.
Because my body no longer recognises you as home,
my antibodies attack the pieces of you that you left behind,
confused as to how they got there in the first place
declaring them foreign, malignant.
I release you.
From every promise,
from every picture frame that gathers dust in the place of your face,
from every pillowcase that still holds traces of your scent, your hair.
I release you.
There’s a constellation of crossed telephone lines between us—
a universe of regret.
I release you.
Erase you.

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