Autocannibalistic Breakfast in Bed, Post-Top Surgery

I smell him sizzling me

eggs, over easy, potatoes, onions, garlic

in my precious fat.

I hear the crisping

of the edges.

Morning, pookie. Here comes our plate, watering my mouth

and sending an ache through my phantom breasts.

He sets the dish on my navel, its warmth creeps

with longing towards my incisions. I rock my fork rhythmically

to cut the egg, then cup the bite gingerly in its curve—I can't bring myself

to stab it. The food and I are tender in ways

I don’t understand yet. I feel kneaded nicely

in the tummy as I take my body into my body

to rebuild. Welcome back, I whisper to my torso.

I knew you'd get it perfect, I say to him, I don't know why you worried.

He laughs. I only have so many shots.

And impeccable aim. I sample the soft onion, the garlic bits,

bathed in my own tallow. I feel like puzzle pieces

clicking together. Try some.

Are you sure?

Celebrate with me.

I'm honored. I airplane him some of everything.

This is so Catholic.

I'm not usually called Christlike.

My flesh is too leavened, too fluffy for that.

He takes me in his mouth. Delicious.

You are now a little more me.

No. Defensively. I'm just made a little more

of your past. The seasoning hugs tight

to every cell of our bodies. In him, I feel at home

everywhere at once.

Gay Shotgun Wedding Vows, Idaho

Even when everything in this country is shaped like a gun

and the weight of barrels deflates my chest I love you

when love is no longer luxury status nor legal prerequisite but need

still I find a way to love you.

In resistance I must love you and I must love you across the border

to Canada or to cross the sea intact I must love you

the sublet closets of Amsterdam love you

every day must trust my love for you

in languages we don’t yet speak don’t yet

know we need to speak although you will not find

a single word in many to describe me

and despite all this Rosetta will open

but I will have already found a new

stone by which to love you.

ABOUT:

Jamie Manias is a poetry MFA candidate and instructor at Bowling Green State University, where they serve as an assistant editor for Mid-American Review. Living on the autism spectrum as a trans person informs their approach to their poetry, which has appeared and is forthcoming in Rat's Ass Review, Kingfisher, and Swamp Ape, among other publications. They can be found on Instagram at @jamiemanias.

EDITOR'S SONG PAIRING: Idkhill --- Find A Way