wanting is not a word by Kalliste Hardy

wanting is not a word, but an exegesis

it is a small bird

it is in my hair

and coating the floor

like sheared wool

 

there is nothing tender

stuck on the skin of wanting

years later

the bite still draws blood

– and it feels good

 

you are free to make this body jagged

inhabit this crest

the cul-de-sac of my neck

I do not like how empty it is anyway

swollen, hollowed trunk

with a rotting, lonely smell

 

 

God saw my wanting

he felt an envy, thick and slow

he saw that it was strong and sure

and stuck a knife into my leg

but I am walking in someone else’s bloody trail

 

and what’s this?

a goddess I had met once before

she speaks my mother’s mother tongue

she tells me I am a fool with a slow heart

she plucks an orange from the ground

– is this my wanting?

 

 

cut off a piece of your desire

and feed it to me

like a wolf

my tongue will know the taste

the longing never lies

and it never lasts

 

 

when I think of you, can you feel it?

 

 

if you tell me that

you are falling for me

I would advise –

 

do not trip

it is rough terrain here

it is murky

and it will kill

 

the waters

are out for blood

they will sacrifice

anything to get to you

 

 

you are glazed in the skin that I lo–

were you going to say love?

do not pretend that there is a shred of gentleness here


“This was one of my few very early attempts at poetry. It was also one of the very few moments in my life that I have written unbridled and unstructured. I wrote this piece two years ago, and did not hesitate to bin it straight after it was done. I couldn't read it without feeling scalding hot shame for the way my desperation manifested on the page. It is a poem about desire and unrequited wanting. Why was I expecting my desperation to not show?  I loved it because it is mine. I loathed it because it was mine. I am thankful to have never emptied my laptop bin.”

Kalliste (kuh-lis-tee) Hardy is a Greek-Turkish-Australian woman (she/her/hers) living on unceded Gayamaygal country. In her writing, she mostly enjoys working with her own diaspora, ancestry, and desire. At any given moment she is either journaling (ferociously), eating figs (messily), or playing chess (poorly). Her Instagram handle is @applebottomreads.

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