Anthology of Elegies

Should have put this up a bit ago...our last assignment was to write in another student's voice. We drew names. I should hassle the gal who got mine and get that up here. It was interesting hearing other people talk about a style they found in my writing.

I took about half a dozen pages of notes trying to figure this gal's form out; she's super talented and didn't read that much in class, hard combo. The predominant theme I found was vocab, she uses this great vocabulary, but I'm not sure how much she says. This is based mostly on the century she read in class and I remember getting totally lost and had no idea what the point was, but I felt in a very beautiful place all the same.

I still feel like a jackass that 'big words' was my guiding tool to writing Vania.
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Closeted, the anthology of elegies I've sewn on your many sleeves while standing tip-toed to transcribe the rhythms of your chest. These oxygenated eyes see aching groans of inhales and anhedonic cries of exhales beneath woven fortresses, beyond epithelial stone walls, through marrowed prison bars. We pass cacophonic codes through needles, via emergent transfusions, clandestinely; tattletaling guards stand at every gate. The tactility of my tasteful tongue speaks Braille better than I. The shifting tectonic plates, active fault-lines of your otological structures hear signs better than you. What lengths, what languages, simply to ask how your head rested last night.
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