a hunger that has two names
All of us wading through stage curtains to find something true. There is nothing in the box, my darling, just candles. Though, we were the side-show, the lamentable trough of us bodies boy and bodies girl and bodies spirit. Our bodies were bred to lie. They said we were not of this world. We were on the Austrian news in the morning. We sweat baroque. We coughed up blood. There is nothing in the box, my love, just fabric. We were in beds besides one another, arms and arms and legs and legs wrapped and unwrapped and faking and faking. And the pink eye and the shared eyeliner and the champagne and the start again.
Previously published in Vanilla Sex Magazine.
Lisa Marie Basile is an editor, writer and poet living in NYC. She founded and edits Luna Luna Magazine and is the author of APOCRYPHAL (Noctuary Press, 2014), as well as a few chapbooks: Andalucia (Poetry Society of New York), War/Lock (Hyacinth Girl Press), and Triste (Dancing Girl Press). Buy her books on Amazon & Small Press Distribution. Her poetry and other work can be or will be seen in PANK, Spork, Atlas Review, Tarpaulin Sky, the Tin House blog, The Huffington Post, The Rumpus, Rogue Agent, Moonsick Magazine, Best American Poetry, PEN American Center and others. She has spoken on the topics of writing and publishing at Westfield High School, New York University, Columbia University and Emerson College. Her work was recently selected by Pulitzer Prize-winning writer Robert Olen Butler for inclusion in the Best Small Fiction 2015. She got an MFA at The New School in NYC.
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