ALONE ON A MOVING TRAIN
Somewhere on another side of the world
a cat on top of the backyard shed
reclines like it is a queen and knows it
attracting sunlight on its dense black fur
selfishly consuming the heat
as if we don’t need any of our own
I have never stood alone on a moving train
with no one next to me
in the case of emergency
We exist as exits for that possible moment
You have never not been held by me in the morning
even if you try to imagine that I am not there
because afterwards it will be best that way
I am sorry, what I meant was
I am home again and you are home still
Your flag is hanging lengthwise
in front of another one of your flags
that is also hanging lengthwise
waving to the hum of multiple trains
and it is here we decide to die
But we probably won’t
because look at me I am still alive
Touch me I am still able to be touched
It is generous that you have hands and that
at times they have held me
It is lucky that I have been moved
by the weight of them and that you
have become tired from it
I know you are bothered by the presence of yours
but don’t worry
No one’s face is actually a nice thing
Don’t worry
They are all absolutely terrifying
like anything that can open and close
easily and without warning
like a trash compactor
or an asshole
Don’t tell me which stories
were dedicated to you
Tell me instead
about carrying winged animals on the same day every year
as everyone celebrates getting older
in a low mumble kind of way
Don’t tell me so many things, actually
In the dark I walked laps on a cement patio shaped like a square
In the cold I danced to Caribbean music on the same patio
at a party that was better
and warmer than ours
Don’t tell me about so many things still
The eagle in Pennsylvania sat on its eggs
during the heavy snow last spring
and then its partner flew in and sat on the same eggs
At some point they hatched and now the baby eagles will live their lives
being recognized as weird flying dogs
by all actual dogs
I am either the eagle parents of the eggs or the eggs themselves
and you are either the real dogs
or the weird flying dogs
which are really just baby eagles
Sometimes I think about
the pickle brine running down our chins
and the olives on your breakfast plate
and I make believe that salt is an important factor
in our staying alive together in exciting and lasting ways
preserving us for no discernible reason,
cured and dried out till our bodies are jerkies
for the next generation of embarrassing lovers to enjoy
The most important things to keep in mind
when it comes to things that should be remembered
I guess
are that alligator tastes like chicken
rabbit tastes like duck
the inside of my mouth tastes how you’d expect
but not how you remembered
and sometimes falling trash
can be confused for dirty snow
WAYS IN WHICH IT IS TRUE
You are the reason people still search
for new people to kiss
Similarly to the way that you are the gateway chip to,
“Yes, I have eaten the whole bag”
I have never been satisfied and known it
In other words, I have simply never tried
It’s true that I run faster than I give myself credit for
just in case someone is going to try to race me for fun
when I am already too tired
and don’t want to have any fun
It’s true that while wearing sunglasses in public
a person becomes imperceptible
Not in the way that
no one can see you
or tell that you are walking in front of them on the sidewalk
But imperceptible in every other way
My stomach rarely flushes with embarrassment
but does especially when my hands
are holding the two of your cheeks
like they are going to melt away
And your cheeks are being held
like they are considering becoming more heavy
As if a body can expand and shrink on command
in a way that is more dangerous
than breathing
And what about breathing, anyway
What if it’s not that we need to breathe in order to stay alive
but it’s our breaths that are the owners of our soul
and it’s the soul that needs this body to keep on going
What’s life for if not taking everything
spoken to me as a sign to move in closer
What’s life for if not using another body
as a placeholder for your fear
You are big moves in the morning
when I am wanting to be there too
but instead I am many miles away and still asleep
You are hard work in the night
when I am texting you good bye
and the messages are green and not going through
because one of us is underground
and neither of us are being easy
together
Sometimes I become so frightened
that a person I knew will become a person I know, again
and that I will have to follow through
on an infinite amount of dormant promises
that seemed nice to make at the time
It’s true that being in love
is the only way I know how to pay for gratitude
without feeling like I am going to run out of something else
It’s true that every time I open my eyes
I am bewildered that so far,
my body has not completely failed
me in a new and exciting final way
I am unconvinced that inside all of us
an at times dull, at times screamingly apparent pain
isn’t making a home
But maybe I am just cold outside in the air
and you are outside in a cold air with me
In the cold air it is difficult for anything to make a home
even if it tries very hard
Fold with me into ourselves like baby paper cranes
who don’t know how to exist without sinking
Hold onto my cheeks similarly to the way
I held onto yours
Learn how to melt away
and then do it
Sarah Jean Alexander is an American writer from Baltimore, Maryland. She is the author of Wildlives (Big Lucks Books, 2015) and has been featured in Dazed Digital, The Fader, Spork, Hobart, Fanzine and in other print & digital publications. You can see other things she has done at sarahjeanalexander.com
