Love Lesson #42 from Buffy the Vampire Slayer
How can water break?
Ask the cracks and potholes in the boneyard.
In the tub my body sinks to the bottom,
filled with water weight.
No matter how many tears are shed
or how much of myself I pour on you,
the memory of your saliva takes up more
than 78% of me.
Stop this Pitypalooza
At least he has a reflection
like the willows, which weep raindrops
that cannot fall, like my body of water
suspended in this body of water where I find
no reflection, just the hot baptism of my skin.
They’ll never know how hard it is to be the one
who isn’t chosen.
In another time and place, I could be a waterfall
to which, through the mist of clouds broken
by the sun, people pilgrimage to cleanse
their unstakeable selves, the self that cannot remain
in one form
like coffee beans, they hope the rush of my water
will brew them out of their shells, transform them into the essence
drinkable, visible, lovable.
Lisa Cheby is a writer and a librarian in a public high school in Los Angeles, CA. She earned an MFA from Antioch, is an MLIS candidate at San Jose State University, and is the poetry editor for Annotation Nation. Her poems and reviews have appeared in various journals including The Rumpus, Eclipse, The Mom Egg, The Citron Review, Two Hawks Quarterly, Tidal Basin Review and A cappella Zoo and in the anthologies Drawn to Marvel: Poems from the Comic Book and The Burden of Light: Poems on Illness and Loss. Her first book, Love Lessons from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, is available from Dancing Girl Press.
Darren C. Demaree is the author of three poetry collections, As We Refer to Our Bodies (2013, 8th House), Temporary Champions (2014, Main Street Rag), and Not For Art For Prayer (2015, 8th House). He is the recipient of three Pushcart Prize nominations and a Best of the Net nomination. He is also a founding editor of Ovenbird Poetry and AltOhio. He is currently living in Columbus, Ohio with his wife and children.