Sophia Pouzyrev

Thoughts of Him

The curvature of my body when it’s splayed on your bed, the incline from
          my ribcage to my hips
Legs outstretched to welcome in a stranger who has no place
In the forest of my soul
Don’t be surprised when my gates close
Blocking access from a solemn city that hasn’t seen water in years
Except in the form of tears streaming down from God’s ducts
Because you were never worth entry

Often I watched your lips move to the rhythm of a classist hymn
Preaching your socioeconomic status like it was goddamn poetry
Pushing my prose out of the way for your sonnets to take center stage
And here I thought I was the actress

When I was thirteen I kissed a boy for the first time and it made my skin
          crawl body freeze hair curl neck
tighten lips quiver breath waver back ache voice disappear -scary movie
          cue here- and he asked me
Why do you kiss with your eyes open?
Here, I blinked

я люблю тебя
Papa said he’d shoot the first bastard who uttered those words to me
Mama nodded as he took another swig
Не смотри на меня

Kiss my lips like liquid gold or don’t touch them at all
The next time you take a woman for granted, remember the soft spot
          where her neck meets her shoulder
Tingling sensation that begins from the spine and ends at the heart when you peck there
Pecking a gaping black hole into her entity
Dark matter fills, sucking her independence away into a spiralling vortex
That ends in salty drops of water on her lecture notes
The astronomy department didn’t know what to make of her galaxy when
          it was discovered she was more
than just a planet
But a brilliant collection of stars and clouds of sparkling dust that spanned for lightyears

May Mother Earth bestow upon her a grounding force
Or better,
Give her the power
To ground

Sophia Pouzyrev is a first-year student in the College of Arts and Sciences at Boston University. She harbors a variety of other hobbies other than poetry, like theater and being able to do the human pretzel for uncomfortable amounts of time. Many of her peers and elders comment on her physical proximity to Velma. If her poetry career doesn’t work out, Pouzyrev could likely be found in twenty years in the circus.