A room full of pointed crystals,
Furniture emboldened with jewels
The arms of an extravagant loveseat
Reaching for me
The psychic says I am not gay
I am something else
Something else
She says, she doesn’t know
What’s not offensive these days
I might have, could have laughed,
But my self-concept is Tempurpedic
Shapeable
Instead:
I am not gay?
Well, what about queer
I offer
She doesn’t seem sold
And she says a lot about you too
It does not make me feel good or bad —
Says you were a man the past 25 lifetimes
Says, you have forgotten how to be a woman
That is why you thought
You were more powerful than me
Psychic says
We have fought many battles before
You and I
Can only think about our dance parties
And our Prayers together
But psychic is certain
And I am not
I ask Psychic
I say, well why do we all keep dying early
My family
And I know this is me, I think,
Embodying my humanness
Grasping for answers
In this sea of incertitude
That is life
But
What psychic says surprises me
And strangely also does not,
Stony and assured,
Like she saw the question form before
I even parted my lips
Your great grandfather was
A predator
A pervert
Your family has been paying
consequences for his offenses
And your family, you should know
You come from very prejudiced people
Your mother was a racist —
Certainly didn’t like gay people either
Wouldn’t ever say it,
But certainly.
Certainly?
But what about me?
Well, you will live a very long life
She says
I let out a breath of relief
A dusty one that’s been in there awhile
Because
Who is not afraid of dying?
But I need to light candles for you,
She says,
They are not cheap,
This is not cheap work
Hesitancy looks like my face
In that moment –
And she sees it on me
Or through me?
So she adds,
Honey,
With a smirk attached
Why do you not shave your legs?
I know that this is not you
This is your ex-girlfriend’s thing
A bit of a sting in that shock
I look at my legs
And the hair that is standing up on them now
Because I have never told anybody
I secretly miss shaving
Because I of course,
Don’t want to conform
To the straight-lined
Baby glorifying, Eurocentric standards
Seeped into the web of daily life,
But I do silently love the smooth
Of my body regardless of those big words
I say well, it’s a statement
She says, sure — but it’s not yours
Go home and shave tonight Honey
Psychic says,
And she says it as if she’s known me for years
Like a mother
Like she knows what is best for me
So I do, I do
I feel confusion where there once was hair —
What is honest is all mixed up and
It’s so easy to pretend I believe her
So easy to do what I’m told
My fingers linger over my phone
When I get to my car
Every cell within me knows what it wants
They want to tell you
I want to tell you
I have seen a psychic
Even before I ask how you have been
This past year
— It’s been that long
But the psychic says
That we should not talk right now
You are not well at all
She says I missed this part
Because I put you on a pedestal
When our souls were dancing together
A harmonious interruption
in our tethered karmic battles
She says that
You are deeply unwell
Does not go further into detail
But I leave that part there
I have to
Because I can not bear to know it —
To know it and do nothing about it
So I shaved my legs.
I bought the candles.
Against every fibre of my being
I put my phone away.
You did not hear from me.