Author: Daphné Cheyenne

Daphné Cheyenne teaches romantic break up and magic in Montreal. She writes in French and English. She is the editor of Snif, Poéme de Single Ladies and blogs at La p'tite indienne.

your weekly horoscope

send him a postcard
a picture of you
perched on a stool

cooking

waving a rolling pin
adorned with flour

wish he could see
the mother
inside you

wish you could see it too

blow the candles
thinking
one breath
is not enough

candles are still burning
lowering their pants and
mooning

I will grant you no wish
they say

send him
a postcard that reads
I think I’m starting to love
turtles
send it from a beach with lapping waves
and nothing else

the sun is so hot
you think about death
incessantly

but write about turtles

this week
the strange pain will be like a
child on a swing
give the swing a push
to catch some air

write words
that make the waves talk

skype with the Mexican lover
you meet at the beach

distance
alleviates the weight
and you’re his queen

send him a postcard
a song you like

taurus,
this week
you will tear out your uterus in
a dream
it will be filled
with fish eggs
overripe salmon
roe

this week you will have a miscarriage

take a picture of the crimson-black flesh
with your phone
lose the phone in a cab
too drunk, it will slip out of the purse
with all the memories
you did not back up

send him a postcard
a picture of you

a simple
white cake
a pair of pink lungs

dive with open arms
in whatever will
kill you a little bit
more

you can’t let the silence
grow
so listen to this song
that makes you feel like
a movie

taurus,
airies
and gemini
cancer
leo and virgo
libra, scorpio
sagittarius
capricorn and
aquarius

pisces

this is your weekly cosmic calendar

send him a postcard
a picture of you

time will be fraught with
memories
as you
describe the
same old
trajectories

and send the same postcard
to different people

I Am a Girl

Men write about fear, death and struggle
show evidence
of universes
beyond our own

their words,
their words taste like whiskey
are full of hips
and tricks
and melancholy

but I am a girl

I write stuff
like I will survive
and yes
I should have changed that stupid lock
I should have made you leave your key

but I didn’t:
I am a girl

I underline
things
like
my eyes

I have the makeup
the cookbook
the treadmill,
the heels

but not the rhythm

I run around in circles

I’ve started
trying
to lose
and why
I don’t
remember

I may
even attempt
yoga

I’ve started
trying
to lose
some weight
to lose some friends
to lose myself
to dance

to lose respect
to lose my time
to lose
my appetite

trying
to lose
someone

you can tell him
that
I am a girl

please tell him

about

fear
death
and
struggle

just say
that
I am a girl

The Art of Dying

Julien,

you are dying
and you knew you would

from late-night
calls
and texts
filled with
mistakes
that are spelling
my detachment
for us

I text you
a smiley face

because you have the smile
of a child
who can’t speak English
and it’s so breakable
I don’t want to break it

of course
I text you back

but your kisses
now upset me
like monkeys
behind bars
at the zoo

I tell my sister
there are still remnants
of stars
in your eyes
and she
doesn’t care

Julien

you kept on
smiling
even though
I stopped
calling

one night
you even sent me
a picture
of your cock

it looked like
Death

your naked body
lit by the flames
of five candles

OMG
I typed

you were not
a sculpture
I could worship

but a street performer
spray painted
silver

a sad clown

saying
you just wanted
the best
for me

and guess what

so do I.

My Old Taiwanese Roommate

Questions

1.
now that I am starving
do I need a permit
to think of you

2.
hey D,
do you fancy a bit of stilton

3.
is this beach private
I thought it smelled like you
it’s going to rain
I’m out of sangria
and your local specialty ~
is to forget

4.
will it shrink

5.
can I have your recipe
you’re magic
I haven’t decided yet
a dwarf
a goblin
or a gnome

6.
Isn’t a lovely day

7.
talent
talent
talent

where r u

8.
who does he think he is
who does he think he is
who does he think he is

hey
who does he think he is

I text him 40 times
to ask him