Ghazal for 20 Hours Abstinent
by Kay E. Moore
I have not done the act of speaking to [m____r] for twenty hours, finally
absolving myself of the requirement. Acts of conversation exhaust me
when I realize I am forced to bid for [_o__e_]. The telephonic
wires are merely a portal. I slither through copper and tape, exhausting myself
in this adipose body, shirking my sanity for hers. Trapped in the phone lines
I awaken to the addiction of [__th__] on me, exhausting her use of me
for whimsy. Gilded pawn on her marble chess board, capturing prey,
waltzing diagonally to do her bidding. This [God] has exhausted me
a terminal time. There is no body left for [m_t_e_] to push across her board: interference pulses
and all lines die. Silence persists, exhausting me.
Kay E. Moore (they/she) is a queer non-binary poet, educator, editor, and reviewer from Cincinnati, OH. They hold a BA from the University of Cincinnati and are currently an MFA Candidate at Randolph College. You can find their writing in Cotton Xenomorph, Longleaf Review, The Rumpus, Beyond Queer Words, and more. Explore their work at kayemoorepoet.com