Charlie is warm skin and a smile that shines. It’s an inviting personality. It’s vintage thrift shopping and pulling off anything you wear. Shy smiles behind coffee cups. Charlie is long lasting friendship and spontaneous trips to wherever. It’s smelling like cotton and book stores and always humming under your breath.
A pressed white shirt buttoned-down to bare the collarbones, rum-laced kisses, late-night confessions, a lighter left behind by a stranger, lucid dreams, world-weary hands, a decade-old videotape never rewinded.
I too am sick of the body. I too am sick of being a body, am sick of being sick about my body,
— Meghan Dunn, from “Response, Years Later, to Two Male Poets I Overheard Discussing How Sick They Were of Women’s Poems about the Body,” published in MUSE/A
