Morgan Purvis: My Drawers

Morgan -Sara Hembree(1)

My Drawers

I have an old list I always find in my pocket
Balled up, crumpled and recrumpled
A piece of paper I’ve been playing with
Anxious fidgeting
But the paper always ends up soft, you know?

I remember the past so magically
Like the 3 drawers in my bedroom full of cut-up magazines
And the 26 little jars full of letters
They might be for ransom letters
Depends on what you think liberation means
Depends on what you see when you look in the other three drawers
What do you see?
Last weekend I taught children how to make paper airplanes
They don’t know how to make the creases sharp enough
But their airplanes don’t last anyway
They end up
Squashed and stepped on and landed in the toilet
Colour them with stars and give them names
Abandon them and start again

My airplanes flew the farthest
But none of them had names
But their starship toilet flyers know how to remember the past magically
God is in the crinkles
My “precise” creases are a linear mistake
The black leather and chains is
Old.
Old leather gets soft
And it always ends up coming off
Take it off
Take take take me
Out of my perfectly creased femdom delusion
Shove me past my thin editorial, deep inside my crinkles
Tell me what you see

Vulnerability is when I pass out in the shower
With a tall bearded handsome
He felt the paper cuts too
I didn’t meet his eyes for hours
He couldn’t find me anywhere
My burning blush and then forced cool
Chased my blood sugar to the bottom of a sharp crevasse
Cut cut cut
What do you see?

Soft paper like the rose petals
I sneer at and disdain
But- wrapped up like the present
(like a present)
in the soft old leather,
with a ransom of
One woman’s magic infinity
is the Holy wonder of my heart
The mystery of my fragility
Name me.
Still my fidgeting hands
Handle me and crumple me
Lift my chin and see me.
Look in to the other drawers
Invite me with a bit of force to look with you
By drawer four I’ll want to show you

Play with me
Humor me
Wrestle with me-
And don’t let me win.
and be gentle with me
because I’m only made of paper

Unwrap all my loving
Make me safe enough to be soft.
Help me tell you what I see

 

 

Words Morgan Purvis

Photo Sara Hembree