We are continuing our series with Riley Gable, a friend of LFC, who will be sharing five pieces of work with us over the next few weeks. This is part two. Read part one here.
I couldn’t help but compose you— Inventing the limbs and secrets that I needed you to Carry,
The words that I needed to hear In the midst of a mini 20-something- year-old meltdown.
I was reaching for you at Bricco, with Bone-white ankles, and a caramel crown: Flicking my paper-mache nails onto slick marble— Spilling myself out all for the sake of an idea.
I never could love my loneliness, is what I mean to say Persistent on lashing against any visible absence.
You held your stomach when you laughed, Gasped at the train moaning to life, At the graffiti in billowing letters, Emmy’s butthole is loose And Travel in the direction of your fear.
I danced to “Love on Top” on the way home, my first date a success, I admitted to myself,
But you left me in silence every day since— In comely and caveat erasure.
All photography in this series done by Paige Farrow.