The Tangible Enthusiasm of the Intangible Narrator - Jasmine Melchor
poem read by Timothy Arliss OBrien
The Tangible Enthusiasm of the Intangible Narrator
Jasmine Melchor
You will often find me in a turtleneck
and in brown vintage shoes,
for my ribs are vast waters that turn red,
and love has gotten so old,
it can barely make a move.
In the superfluity of a flag with a cherry star,
I look for ivory keys and a tailor’s machine
with only a little wealth and a homemade bookmark
inside the rusty buckled straps of my belongings.
I have been admired as I have creatively planned,
at times they call me a wordsmith,
at times a songbird or a woman,
but if I am composed of resourceful imagination,
such physicality only begets an exhibition,
and I have never wanted more to disappear
in this opalescent appearance.
I am lost in a pool of eyes that behold me, dear—
none of them can pursue my soul for a dance.
I dream of getting away and conspiring with the clouds,
but I cannot avow if I mean it
or if I just want to be found.
So, look for me where a vinyl is spinning on a turntable
or where a tape is rolling against a translucent blanket.
Though I’m as transient as an invitation to an evening ball,
at least keep me warm in a shoulder-padded jacket.
I wish I had a coin purse made out of felt fabric,
much as I wish on a homeless penny
of being missed to the very brink,
but I am just an echo downtown driving to the prairie,
love has gotten so concrete—
but not for me.
Jasmine Melchor is a journalism student at the University of Santo Tomas, Philippines.
She has work forthcoming in the 49th issue of Southword.
