It took peeing on a stick
Everyday
For weeks
To confirm your place
Inside of me
But souls have a way
Of rushing through
Blood streams
Of superimposing on cells
Acting as platelets
Healing scars
All that to say
No stick could prove
I had two souls
For a short time only
It was proof for his eyes
As they scanned mine for you
Unable to see
What I already knew
Unable to feel the kind of joy
That comes from two
Worlds colliding
In one shattered home
Not one part of you was for him
And I knew that
As we used his cream
As a necessary ingredient
My body the mixing bowl
The oven and the gloves
My body the teeth that would eat
to continue the cycle of nourishment
it was cloud walking
knowing I was two
instead of the one
the world took me for
knowing I had this window
of time
to walk stronger
stand taller
feel wiser
until at two in the morning
you rushed out of me
as if you were running
from a broken home
and I couldn’t put you back
together
because I hadn’t become acquainted
with your form yet
and anyway,
you were too wet
too slippery to cup and hold
you were soaking in
the fucking bedsheet that
was decades old
and time seemed to
lose its mind
because it couldn’t comprehend
the loss
my love, I thought we had time
I thought I had time.
Charlie Amore
Charlie Amore is a Jamaican British Queer Non-Binary Writer. They were born and raised in South-London and currently live and work in San Francisco. They write about Queerness, Relationships, Trauma and grief – with trickles of humor. Their work is informed by personal experiences as they strongly believe in owning your story. Find them on Instagram: @wordsofcharl
Photography
Nadine Peralta
Forum Literary Magazine 