“Sick Desires, These” by Julien Charlie

Poetry Pause is the League of Canadian Poets’ daily poetry dispatch. Read “Sick Desires, These” by Julien Charlie.


Sick Desires, These

By Julien Charlie

Youโ€™ve waited for stillness.

Room shadowed, twin bed sheets cool

beneath bare back. Youโ€™ve waited

for silence, for the master bedroom door to thunk down the hall.

Finally

alone with an under-the-skin itch

for flesh beneath fingers.

But youโ€™re not alone. Not when you have your desires.

The kind that begin as you slide your palm down the curve of your stomach,

that bring tingling gooseflesh and rumbling warmth

that melts through your chest;

breasts and neck and cheeks hum with blood.

The kind that have you panting in the dark,

hand shoved down boxers

and you can smell yourselfโ€”

sex does have a smell, like seaspray over a crowded beach.

The kind that involve a man, any man,

with broad shoulders, gravel-in-the-motor voice,

steel-boned fingers that curl across your scalp

until he fists.

And thereโ€™s that split-second burn

before he bares your throat, crooks spine

until your lower back screams white-hot for relief.

The kind that iron your belly to the sheets

as if heโ€™s pinning you down,

maybe with his meaty hand against your crown, maybe

his gut anchored to your tailbone.

These desires.

These sick desires

youโ€™re always caught with.

The kind that blip from your eyelids

when your door swings agape to a spotlight

with a hard-stare silhouette.

The kind that linger as residue in your stomach,

once simmering, now iced

but burns the same.

The silhouette beckons with shadowed fingers, lures youโ€”

no. Nets you,

tangles you with invisible twine cast especially for nights like these

(because even in your room nothing is yours, not even privacy).

The kind that strand you,

shirtless, before a man who has your eyes

and a face that belongs among the frozen scowls of antique marble busts.

The kind that leaden the back of your head,

make you bow under the weight

of your hunger for skin on skin,

whoeverโ€™s sweat-slick skin it may be.

The kind that remind you, in that familiar baritone, that

these are wrong.


Copyright ยฉ Julien Charlie

Julien Charlie is a Queer writer and editor who grew up in Tkโ€™emlรบps (Kamloops), and whose work appears in two Poetry Institute of Canada anthologies. He graduated with a BA in Writing from the University of Victoria, and was a Fiction Board Intern for the Malahat Review. Julienโ€™s live performance background informs his poetry, which often focuses on the natural world and the human body.


Subscribe to Poetry Pause, or support Poetry Pause with a donation today!