#5 – A Bad Weekend in Three Parts

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On February 6, DMC celebrates its TWO-YEAR ANNIVERSARY! 
Holy mackerel, time flies. It’s been a great year. We’ve 
published hundreds of pieces this year that we feel proud 
and honored to share, and we also put out our first book! 
This week we will be counting down the Top Ten Most Read 
posts from our second year of existence, and will present 
#2 and #1 on Saturday, February 6. Thanks for being part 
of a wild and excellent two years. 


One

I open up my body, whole and spit-shined eager
and inside there is only a mouth. The mouth says 
You are not an easy person to love.
Curious, I reach into this mouth
and pull out the tongue.

I make the tongue say it again, and again.
You are not an easy person…
You are not an easy person to…
And it’s so silly looking. 
This little flip-flopping thing 
in the palm of my hand.

I show it to everyone. My friends.
The guy at 7-11. On the morning you leave
I hold it right up to your face.
So close you practically choke on it.
So close that it practically 
becomes your tongue.

And everyone I show it to
just looks at me and laughs.
Of course, they say,
of course this is true


Two 

This body wears crazy well and so unlike a man.
Like well-sewn black lace and pink moscato.

This body lit the votive candles above the bathtub 
and forgot. They burned all night. The house still stands.

Small miracle. This body fell asleep and woke up 
with a kitchen knife in the bed. Again. 

I am off somewhere in a swirl of blue silk
slow and watching this body. My body. 

I brought a knife to gunfight, but I am the knife.
I am all blade.  


Three

I wake to my phone glowing 
are you awake still?
and in the dizzy smear of sleep
I say, come be bodies
with me.

He arrives and I meet him 
at the door, lock fingers, 
lead him to my room.

I kiss him and say 
I don’t believe in truth anymore.

I kiss him and say
I am paralyzed by hope.

I kiss him and say
I’m going to break you open
and find the butterflies.
And beneath that the concrete.
And beneath that the rich dirt.

I kiss him and say
There is something in me that cannot be healed.
There is something in me needs breaking open.

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About Clementine von Radics

Clementine von Radics is an internationally touring poet. She is the founder of Where Are You Press, a publishing house that focuses on the voices of young women. Her work has been featured on Buzzfeed, Huffington Post, Whiskey paper and others. Her first collection was adapted into a song cycle for Melody Moore, debuting at Carnegie Hall in 2016. Her latest book, Mouthful of Forevers, was a #1 Bestseller on Amazon. View all posts by Clementine von Radics

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