Out of Control

It turned out that after we had broken up this other girl came back into the picture and he thought that he was going to break her heart or have his heart broken again because he is “a masochist narcissist ass hole”, but it turned out he didn’t feel a thing and could fuck her three times without feeling a thing and then fucked her a fourth, fifth and sixth time and really enjoyed it, but when he fucked her the seventh time he smelled her real pussy, the daze of feeling nothing had worn off, and it smelled like someone else’s sex; he could see all the curls of her pubic hair beginning to grow back unevenly and with little red bumps, and he witnessed her cumming and getting tired, and he was sick at himself for fucking her without feeling , and realized she too felt nothing.


He began to cry, sob, big, male emancipatory sobs all over her body, and she was disgusted, but pat his back and then without thinking she told him to call me even though she had never met me and he rarely mentioned it, my name just came out of her, and as she said my name a blue and white fairy floated down to his belly and whispered to him that he was still head over heels in love with me, and the fairy blew blue sparkles at him and told him he didn’t want other skin to touch me and didn’t want to touch other skin because ours were entwined, and other pussies are gross even though they are beautiful to look at and to be inside, but their humanity is too overwhelming and intimate.


So he called me, but I was on the train and didn’t receive a call from him and he called twice more, once as the subway was pulling into the station and once more when I walked up the stairs still just out of service and then he promised himself not to call again because he was getting the universe’s message that I didn’t want to talk, or that I was fucking someone else, or that I was dead and he was tired of grieving so he bought the other girl painted blue flowers and tried to make her fall in love with him.



Cornelia Barber is a poet and performance artist living in Crown Heights, NY. She has performed at Bureau of General Services Queer Division, Mellow Pages Library, The Cake Shop, and elsewhere. She writes at the intersection of Feminine Mysticism and experimental poetics. She is published in Luma Foundation's 89+ project, Local Nomad, Lemon Hound, Prelude Magazine and forthcoming from Imperial Matters. You can find the first two installments of her collaborative all female and trans interview series up on Lemon Hound.


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