Thermostat

By Robin Gow

When I complain of the cold, I’m really complaining about what
winter vibrates through my apartment’s bones.
I have been collecting pen pals. One asks me, Is it just you then? and
letter writing is beautiful because I don’t have to respond. I press
my hands to my neck where my fires live. I don’t miss anyone
but I want company. Conjure private ghosts: You and I last summer
when the asphalt ate our city. When construction men pounded nonsense
into the railroad tracks. When night came later than it should
and blue dwindling sun went to sleep with me. Often, I convince myself
no one else lives in this town but me. My body is a curled leaf
asking to be diminished further. I remember our green and our
orange and even our red. I count the thermostats. One for each room.
A room can be a family in this kind of life. Twist towards heat.
Sit by the radiator and tuck my hands between my thighs where
your pleasure used to scrape me clean. Who am I going to be
when the onion grass sighs loud in April?

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Robin Gow is a trans and queer poet and Young Adult author. They are the author of Our Lady of Perpetual Degeneracy (Tolsun Books 2020) and the chapbook Honeysuckle. Their first essay collection, Blue Blood, is forthcoming (Nasiona Publishing House 2021) and their first Young Adult novel, A Million Quiet Revolutions, is forthcoming (FSG Books for Young Readers 2022).