Adrienne Novy

on praising the body electric

i climb onto my partner’s bed for the first time,
& feel like a fawn familiarizing herself with the sensation
of having legs.

associating sex with hunger or the loss of innocence is trying to ask
my body to express a new language without the anxiety of wobbling.

i say yes & tell my partner they can take my bra off if they want to.
they do & my body sheds its unforgiving silver.

each word describing desire fits clumsily in my mouth,
like touch or here or hands or light.

i have never felt warm against another body in this way before. i ask
them if it’s okay if we just lay here instead.

my partner smiles. i don’t want to do anything that you don’t
want to or don’t feel ready for.

i say thank you instead of i’m sorry & that, in itself, is the reteaching of a lexicon.
what a gift it is to be held. what a gift it is to be soft.

Adrienne Novy is a Jewish and disabled artist, Bettering American Poetry and Pushcart Prize nominee currently living in Saint Paul, MN. She is the author of trisomy 22 and Crowd Surfing With God (Half Mystic Press, 2018). Her most recent work can be found in Entropy’s series The Birds, Glass: A Poetry Journal and Homology Lit, and is also forthcoming in Drunk Monkeys. She loves My Chemical Romance and she loves being alive.

1 Comment

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *