Poetry by Maya Stahler

Paraphernalia

my good pantyhose
over your head you
are breathing inside
of my house

steam coils up
cause tonight I’m
boiling my safety razors
in old white vinegar and
flat dish soap

I finger a hole
in you so I
can see your left
brown eye wetting

and stir slow the pot
watch as you pool
tongue spit at the mouth
a small circle dyeing
the tight nylon browner

I think I know just
what my pantyhose
must smell like
my pussy your rotten
face looking like it did when
you stole my mother’s
oxygen drops and I said yeah

I ought to cut you with
my boneless razors but they
are still drying
and cooling on the
paper towel by the sink
and your eyes haven’t left
the cellar door since I

said you scare me like
I didn’t want your hand
at that funeral in July
I wanted to stop seeing

so I bury my fist bad
into your marked up belly
but the razor just tugs at your
light brown hairs

and you take me
by the hand muffle
ask crush the blade between us
why don’t you call out to me like I want?

this is my room
and I say no
     (I say no)

Maya Stahler

Twitter: @MayaStahler