Tallulah, I’m Home

by Carrie Chappell

I skitter
through

your silver screens,
your fanfare,

my lips
gripping

straw’s
translucence.

You are
my scandal,

my tycoon.
You are

the raspy space
wherein I trample

the shy girl
scout within.

You are
the myth,

fatty-masculine
wherein I,

searching
love’s hologram,

hold out
the wrapping paper

to the light—.
Through you

and those
who looked at you

and those
who didn’t

look at you
and the ways

I found out
about you

and the way
you were

pervasive
and the way I was not

supposed to
love you

and the way
I did,

despite
your destitutions,

I am able to
scratch at

my woman’s story,
even while

belching out
this baby’s

breath—.
I ask you—

shall I
choke them

with my
decency,

nurture
nurturing,

or shall I kiss
them shut,

tremble
their thighs,

as I spread
my lines

and wide open
their wanton?

Carrie Chappell’s poetry has been published in Cimarron Review, Cream City Review, Harpur Palate, and Pittsburgh Poetry Review. Her book essays have appeared in The Collagist, Diagram, FANZINE, The Iowa Review, Xavier Review, and Buried Letter Press. She currently lives in Paris.