i know that i am not pretty
my nose is beaky, my mouth is small, my lips are often chapped
my hair is thin, limp and straight
my skin is mottled (the sun is my enemy)
i know all these things
who do you think i see when i look in the mirror?
i know what you see when you look at me
i see it reflected in your eyes and there’s no way you can hide it
you men are all alike, i’m no great scholar
you see the outlines of my breasts, they’re perfect and i know it
i’m quite pleased with them and you would be too
you see my narrow waist and my flat belly and these hips my hands are resting on
you think, what a nice butt (i know you do)
i know you see my wedding ring and the way i smile
i know you see yourself touching me with your hands and mouth
doing things with me and to me, if only you could, if only you could
i know you see me holding you tight, if only i would
you see exactly what i want you to see
(Copyright 2023 by Tetman Callis.)
i scraped and shuffled and pawed my way through my desk
finding sheets of canceled airmail stamps
i cut them into airplane shapes with my exacting knife
building paper planes again
kneeling beside my bed i lifted the spread’s hemmed edge
sure i heard the ghost of my lover’s soft sobbing, or some sort of coughing
coming from the gap between the slats and floor
there was nothing there but my imagination and clumps of dust
i crawled beneath the bed to join them, gather them, dreams and dirt together
press them between my palms until they were one and they were dead
night came down
i slept
morning woke me with its light in through my window
the dead remained as they always are, dream-filled and as ghosts
i opened the window, called my lover’s name, let fly a paper plane
(Copyright 2023 by Tetman Callis.)
“By June 21 [1915], the eight JN–2 airplanes, eight sets of spares, and twelve engines had arrived at San Diego. The new airplanes were quaint by today’s standards; but compared to the awkward-looking pushers and clumsy early tractors, they were beauties characterized by low rakish lines, staggered equal-span wings, and a long, narrow fuselage. Their appearance, however, hid serious defects. ‘They looked like airplanes,’ [Captain Benjamin D.] Foulois later wrote. ‘But we were to find that an airplane that looks like an airplane may be something less.’ ” – Roger G. Miller, “A Preliminary to War: The 1st Aero Squadron and the Mexican Punitive Expedition of 1916 ”