Thin Intimacy
Happy National Poetry Month from Stance on Dance!
BY ESME KUNDANIS-GROW; ILLUSTRATION BY LIZ BRENT
in.
{Breathe.}
S c a n.
Visit from a distance.
Lock In.
disappear.
I want to take out my measuring tape and place it on your
S T E R N U M
Extend it to your computer, and feel the
B
L
O
O
D
that newly courses through my once plastic strip.
It feels like intimacy, right?
I’ve touched this new bloodline,
so inevitably we’ve had a conversation,
and you might look at me eventually.
Your E Y E S might cycle
low
to mid
to high,
and then I’ll see you.
Albeit, there will be an unconscious blur that camouflages
my presence and therefore lacks any kind of
stable reference point.
You’ll s k i p over the imprint of my body,
sturdy on the other side of the table,
and I’ll feel a disappointment in your
body’s stagnation and inability to separate out from digitization.
I want to SHAKE YOU!
I want to dive both hands into your chest, and feel your heartbeat.
I want to do this. I want to do this for you.
The space buzzes,
and I see a bridge between your body and the glowing interface.
It’s now a conversation, and I am almost in focus.
CRACK!
I feel a snap,
the bridge collapses,
and I see you on the other side.
My body swings backwards into my seat,
my hands quietly follow,
falling across my lap.
Thank you,
goodbye….
stay trapped in my throat.
Esme Kundanis-Grow is a dance artist based in the San Francisco Bay Area.