by Cecilia Knapp

I held his lighter to my chest like a promise that he hadn’t made,
like he’d made me a promise.
I watched bodies clip themselves into the tongues
and grooves of each other, like lego.
Everything was the way the bodies moved into each other, everything
was my jeans’ friction burning my spine.
I moved my body, thought about my body,
wanting my body to feel enough,
to be useful to his slender hands, whilst at the same time wanting to take every
man home with me.
Collect them like pennies from the street
just to throw them from the tops of buildings,
to say that I can. To use
my body to fill spaces. To use my body not my mind, for all the times
I’ve burned. To use it like I only have one purpose. To use it
like I could be free.
I waited for his hands to find me through the bodies,
all night.
I watched his body move, his shoulders lose like he wasn’t even thinking of his body, shirt began
to stick to his body,
and I watched him hold another girl’s body, wondering if she
wondered if her body was enough.
She looked like she was made to do this.
He held her, I held the lighter in my fist
between the bodies, so many bodies pouring around me like sand,
and all I really wanted to do was get lost tonight,
somewhere between skin and walls.
I kept the lighter
Lit a candle when I got home
though the sun was up.
Fell to my front door like the steps of a church
And lay with the ghosts of the music pounding in my ears and bones.
Waiting for my body to breathe normally again.
Waiting to get lost.

Cecilia Knapp || @ceciliaknapp

Cecilia Knapp is a writer, performer and poet. She graduated from Goldsmiths University with an English Literature degree and is an alumni of the Roundhouse’s prolific poetry mentoring scheme. Cecilia is now a resident artist at the Roundhouse where they support her to make work.

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