“She waits only for the present.”
I have been delirious all day,
languid,
shattered,
exhibiting as little energy as possible,
and in surreal pain
a body withdrawn from all agency.
a kind of blanket,
None of this thought is new –
under which reality is loose and fluid,
the patriarchal eroticisation of passivity,
during days like this I can barely differentiate
of exhaustion,
between dreams,
of boredom,
thoughts,
of availability;
the screen of my phone,
Ready-to-hand, so to speak,–
what is real,
this visual history prevents you
it is nauseating,
from visualising your experience
I am horny
because as soon as the image exists
Against a historical silence,
it falls into this lineage.
my body has found a voice
My exhaustion can not be visible AND real,
that I can no longer ignore
because visibility turns it into a fetish image.
in the face of what is normative.
The allure of the patriarchal trope of the Reclining Female Nude
Pain is the articulation
collides with the abject chronically ill body
of a kind of resistance.