Cloud Girl

Published by Emerson Poetry Project.

Last night you called me pretty,
Unlike the others inside your bed.

You thought I could change shape,
To fit what you see
Like I’m some cloud.

And although I want you,
I can’t fit in your sky
Even if I try.

You always want two things at once:
You want heaven
But you live in a hell;

You want me as you like it,
Yet you won’t take my body

(You want your cloud girl,
But I am not that).

There is always her,
And her, and her. The girls
Who fit into narratives like a new dress.

I’d rather stand on my two feet
Than lie on the hillside
With my eyes waiting, waiting, waiting

For the kill,
The shooting star,
The lucid dream.

photo: “Untitled Film Still #48,” Cindy Sherman (1979)

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