Wrestling
I imagine her name is Cassandra,
She hates to be called Cassie
She hates wanting to fit in,
but she doesn’t realize it yet
She wraps her arms around his neck too often.
Their skin sticks without intending to linger
He would rather be wrestling, so he does
She stands by and watches
She doesn’t speak to anyone
And nobody speaks to her
Not even the girls her own age,
Especially not the girls her own age
Nobody tries; too busy trying not to—
She keeps adjusting her swimsuit,
Her straps are too high in the back
She pushes out her chest, sucks in her stomach
Hands on her hips, moves where he moves
His name must be Evan, or Ethan, or Ian
They turn their heads like confused puppies,
Kiss like they’ve seen in the movies that scare him
Never standing too close for too long;
Little bird appetite
She wants to share his boogie board,
But he doesn’t notice, doesn’t want to notice
He floats away and she follows
Talks to no one, touches him whenever she can
Like it’s what she’s supposed to do
He wrestles and she watches
Sticks her chest out farther when he wins,
Celebrates with no one,
Adjusts her straps, lifts her tits, arms on her hips
Stands by waiting to be touched
By hands that don’t know who they want to satisfy
Would rather body slam his best friend
They are not pretending, they are only wrestling
They gather their things to leave
While the wind gathers sand in sheet dunes
She covers herself in a too-big tee and combat boots
and waits in the heat.
Give Me the Death I Need
Inspired by the Inuit tale “Skeleton Woman” as told by Clarissa Pinkola Estes in Women Who Run with Wolves
I climbed the shipwreck to kiss your ugliest side
And welcome the flow of false notes or whatever
urges you to the seabed. collect skeletons,
coax the pieces back in place with salt and olive
branches, contented to lay the work down and rest
beside the creature, that brave hunter is virtue
despite a raised blade— still time until it comes down,
the stench misdirects the soul, the wounded creature
needs space to compose its bones, full of sand and peace
and vacancy of its own, all one when alone
Nicole Cosme is a poet from New England. She was an award winner in the 2021 Writer's Digest Competitions and her work has appeared in Prime Number Magazine, Sky Island Journal, Seisma magazine, The Decadent Review, and elsewhere. She is a community coordinator at Groundwork Co-working and is passionate about promoting the arts and literacy in her community. Nicole earned her BS in communication science from Bridgewater State University and has accumulated over a decade of experience in child care and health and human service fields. Currently, she is working on developing an interactive youth book club for kids and teens. Outside of her work, Nicole enjoys hiking, gardening, science fiction, and snuggling with her two dogs, Buddha and Oscar. Visit nicolemariecosme.com for a full list of her published work.
