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"list (a living document)", "the absence is not real", & "maybe what's been..." by Janna Wilson

list (a living document)


when you say ask you anything

and I cannot and

all my words, thoughts, feelings are caught

in loop

inside me

and it’s probably not what you had

in mind

can I touch the inside of your thigh and run my

fingers down

can you kiss me again but not goodbye and not

like that

do you think about me

ever too

is it ok that I’m imagining all

of you

fill in the blanks with just

about anything

and yes, that’s what I want to


will you let me ______, can we


do you ______?

it was fleeting and

I miss the weight of

your being

pressed next to


the absence is not real

in French they say

tu me manques I miss you but means so much more-

you are

missing to me, absent,

beyond reach, lacking (in need of)

I surrender

to the universe

it’s all I can do

and you are here, even if not

don’t confuse the melancholy of my music or my soulful words

of longing for


this is me alive and well

I woke up at midnight, 2 am, 4:30 and 5

I wanted to tell you

I can’t stop thinking



maybe what’s been missing is the music

that time when you turned

video on so I could see you for a

few seconds and you said it was

just for me and all the

blood rushed through my body

and for those seconds I was only energy-

delicious desire,

and while I do want to feel your


remembering that one


is sometimes all

I need

Janna Wilson is a Vancouver-based poet, wanderer, and lover of sunshine, beaches, tattoos and music. In the other hours, she works as a program coordinator for the University of Victoria. Recent work has appeared in Paddler Press and Discretionary Love. Her first chapbook, The Octopus Hunter, was published by Leaf Press in 2010. Forthcoming work in Beyond Words Literary Magazine.

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