Salem Dockery is a poet living in Durham, NC. They are a Pushcart nominee and their work appears in apt, INCH, and Blackheart Magazine.


Also by Salem Dockery: Where the Gams Meet


Salem Dockery

Who’s That Bible Woman Who Slept with a Man and Tore Her Breasts Off About It?

Because honestly same. Coach me on reciprocity when my mouth’s full: I will nod and smile and swallow. What deep sea prey can light up its underbelly to pass when looked at from above as well as below? I keep prancing in my front door dizzy with the night’s twinkling half-turns through a lure-lit gauntlet of predators. Like it when I twirl like this? What was the name of that man that slept for twenty years? Sometimes I wake up from a nap and my lips are swollen ripe as a plum. Other times I wake up to my gums bleeding on my toothbrush so I count the spots in my vision: how many years of fortune do I have ahead of me? Crown me for miscalculating catechism in my youth. It came to pass that all that tempts me more than the flesh is all its issues/ emissions/ lustfulness. Who first called it Déjà vu and did they experience it before they already knew what it felt like? Birds here, they live and die hollering their own names. See me in the window wanting more.


This poem arose in response to confusion around the attraction I felt towards people of certain genders, but more so the dysphoria conjured up in me. I grappled with it in my habit of mis-remembering and forgetting facts and translations, creating a history fluid like my gender and sexuality, and equally as haunted by my own self-doubt.



Glass: A Journal of Poetry is published monthly by Glass Poetry Press.
All contents © the author.