Wanting a Man | Ningzhi Luo-Li

means wanting his hair, his hips; means wanting
to lift my hand and see his gemstone
joints; means I fall asleep wondering what
it’d be like to have his arms, not around me
but at my will, to fold the world close or
beat it to a pulp. I keep wanting my
clothes to hang in the right places, to have
a body instead of being one. I can take the girls
eyeing me the way I used to—that at least
is a gaze I can understand. We know love has always meant
possession, owning what you cannot be. It
means I seek wholeness to escape the
inescapable; it means I take this want
over the impossible one, of being desired
as the woman I am.