Creature Comforts

i meet a heart in a red polo shirt

i meet a  heart in  a red  polo  shirt  /  when i tell the heart i am shy, it
stares /  you  are  not,  eyes   clarion  and ready  / & i believe it / what
is  not  to   believe   in   this   chest-to-chest that ruptures time /  some
say it  takes  two  / for the  body  to  roam /  for the body to   become
four-legged   and   creatured  /  but  in   leading   and   following  /  in
echoed   response /  we  are  one / here’s  the  thing /  i’ve  been  trying
to  develop  a habit of heart-to-hearts /  and  to  learn is to go  and  to
let go / if  not  with words, practice / if  not with practice, the purging
of  the  mind  /  on   mondays,  i  take  private  lessons /   my  maestra
says,  don’t  be an  ostrich /  keep  your feet together /  hold down the
state  of  your body to  help  hold  down the  state of another’s body /
mine  starts  to  change / i  marry  breath with movement / i shave my
legs,     dab     perfume     oil     behind    my   ears   /  when  someone
asks—what  is  this,  your  neck  /  i say  it’s a  black  phoenix,  wings
coated     in     ashes   /   our     bodies  /   en  la   pista  /   reborn  and
unpredictable  /  no   control over  the  infinity of improvised figures /
nor  the  collective  soul  &  rhythm  of  everyone  around  us /  i  call
them     shards   of    mysteries   /    insides   churning   with  complex
musicality  /  syncopated notes  of musk,   myrrh  and ylang ylang  / i
have  good  chemistry   /   i  keep   falling  in  love,  a  little  bit,   with
strangers  in  tango  / i  say falling,  but  it’s  more of a  rising  / minor
scales  in ascending    form  /  i  rise   in   love   with     crooked  teeth,
less-than-white  /  with  sticky  red  polyester drenched in sweat  /  we
create a  creature together / draw  it  up in  a  heartbeat  / we perform
seduction  /  and  heteronormativity  / and  a  willingness  to get lost /
the  red  polo heart is a taurus and  i could  hold on to its aorta-horns
/ breathe  in  with  the stomach  or the back /   we  are   lucky  to feed
our  lungs  with eternal  wind / to share form  / &  air / it’s never easy
to  dance  with  strangers  for  the first time /  but  it sure  is  sweet to
know  the  way to  the pulse  /  when  chunks  of  sugar  fall from the
sky  / and the milky  way  between two bodies whirl until  both leave
the  space / or become  the space / solar plexus to solar plexus

About the author

Meryem Yildiz is a poet from Tiohtià:ke (Montreal) whose work has appeared in publications across Canada. In 2022, she won The Malahat Review’s Far Horizons Award for Poetry as well as the Quebec Writers’ Federation’s carte blanche Prize. Her debut collection, Backbone, will be published by Guernica Editions in 2025.