Chase All the Ghosts from Your Head
In high school, I recorded a Liz Phair song
off the radio on a cassette— the only love
song I’d heard that didn’t specify gender.
I only played it late at night, volume
so low I had to put my ear against
the speaker. I didn’t know who I wanted
to love me. The first person I fell in love with
burned me a CD of love songs,
the front decorated with sharpie rainbows,
first track The Power of Two by the Indigo Girls
I played it on repeat in my car for months after
we broke up, trying to replace
the heart I forgot on the nightstand
beside their bed where we slept.
* The title is taken from the lyrics of “The Power of Two” by the Indigo Girls.
*
Bite
You told your boyfriend
to bite you as we watched
The Twilight Zone in your
dorm room. You said he should
bite me too if I wanted. I always
did what you said, and the thought
of you wanting me bitten
made my skin slither. Your
boyfriend’s teeth made rows
of little crescents on my forearm.
I watched your face. You asked
how it felt. I don’t remember
what I said, only that I left
thinking you loved me.
*
Fisherwoman
I forgot my lungs
when I swam from her—
fish scales shiver
my skin
My lips pass seawater,
as barbs
hook me by the jaw.
She reels me from the water—
a dread of air
passes over my gills
in a lacework of burning.
Seaweed strands weigh
me down—
her hands
on my skin again.
She needs to do it right
this time. Scrape
my scales—
become covered
in the sequins
of my body.
Slice and strip my belly
until all that’s left
is the sweetness of me
she wants in her mouth.
I am flotsam
I am gills.
I am gasped air.
*
Origami Dragon
A green-haired girl made me
a paper dragon so small
my hand became its lair.
It couldn’t stop keeling
over on its curled talons—
with each fall, my hand sparked
to think of her fingers folding.
When she gave me a ride
after art class, gold filled
the cavern of my chest.
But I didn’t yet know
I liked girls— no fire
on my breath
to burn her back.
*
Valentine’s Performance
My belly was full of crackling
eggshells as I helped the girl
working on the student production
of the Vagina Monologues
pass out fliers and ply students with cake.
But I had to leave the carnival
of vulvas to meet my bicurious
art major girlfriend who barely
touched me. I gave her a note
with a pressed violet inside,
and she gave me nothing. All I wanted
was to kiss the theater girl,
our mouths smeared with frosting.
*
Ren Wilding (they/them) is a trans, queer, neurodivergent poet. They are the author of Trans Artifacts: Bones Between My Teeth (forthcoming from Porkbelly Press, 2026) and Trans Archeology (forthcoming from Lily Poetry Review, 2027). Their work appears in Braving the Body (Harbor Editions), Comstock Review, Does It Have Pockets, ONE ART, Palette Poetry, Pine Hills Review, The Second Coming, and elsewhere. They were a finalist for Lily Poetry Review’s Paul Nemser Prize, have received a Pushcart nomination, and are co-curator of the Words Like Blades reading series. They hold an MA in Literature and Gender Studies from the University of Missouri.
