I Still Shave My Legs
By Macy Lu
I still shave my legs—
though no stranger’s eyes shall glimpse them—
pull razor over marble skin
snatch coarse tendrils between steel teeth
watch prickly black bud into a plume and dissipate
in water the color of mixed paints
I still read books, lubricate the cogs in my head
Make sure they don’t creak
Savor the histories, Gulp the fantasies
Get drunk on Wilde
Push away the travel mags cause
Who cares for Machu Pichu anymore?
I still talk with friends, crackled voices on speakers
Low burning embers spitting gold into the night
We take turns breathing each other’s dreams
And exhaling memories—
Sand-encrusted eyelids, clinking glasses, indigo tire rims
I still say my prayers, fingertips pressed to fingertips
Pressed to dry lips
Words spilling from me in a tempest
Unrefined, unguarded, raw
A cracked wound in the sight of God
I still pick flowers—
Pansies, marigolds, gardenias, morning glories—
Balance them on fourth story windowsills
Smear color across a cumulus canvas
My rally against atrophy, my banner of defiance
Macy Lu is a writer in her sophomore year at the University of California, Davis studying communications and english. In high school, she was president of her school’s creative writing club, and in her freshman year of college she was on the Submissions Committee for UCD’s literary magazine. When she’s not in writer mode (which is rarely ever), she’s watching Avatar: The Last Airbender with her sister, doing pilates, or debating between which ice cream flavor to try next. This is her first time being published. You can learn more about her on her Christian/personal blog https://macythoughts.com/blog/
