Paige Quiñones

Ode to Hysteria + Anhedonia

One of me is a woman

with pointed teeth in love

with my own girlish cackle

let’s play games in my well-

furnished sitting room

let’s have a party & invite

everyone we’ve met

            & kiss them all

but at my worst

I’m two women or more

the room lit by my mouth

will drop into darkness

double is double too many sometimes

            I’d rather be alone—

                        *

dearest other girl

waist-deep in water

I hate you for flooding

the bedroom though maybe

it was always flooded

please don’t stare at my feet

            they’re only bone

but at your best

let’s sleep together

since my legs are your legs

& your hands are my almost-twins

sometimes I crave your mouth

more than my own—

                        *

together we read the stars

& decide I’m our best prey

I ask us both again

& again

            why don’t we just

            drown each other

On the Duality Of 

This is two rooms on opposite sides of a house.

These rooms are made for me.

One is covered in ivy: my new backbone.

One is so empty it sighs.

This is the shakes, or the white sheet

I examine for blood.

I am coated in nothing, a woman

crawling. This is my shaking:

yes. Or, this is a shaking: need.

I cannot help but see a rift

between ridged fingertips

and how soft a woman can be. How she

is a curve I can never reconcile.

I still smell her. Hello,

heart-racer. Hello, re-thinker. Every flower

that’s red or white

dies quickly in my vase.

They beg for light even as I

am compelled to crush

each dried petal in my fist.

s.g. maldonado-vélez