At the Rodin Museum, Philadelphia
by Petra Dai Walech
you cannot recommend my love to your plaster you cannot just watch us dance and claim to know what our love is like.
were you a creepy old man? fingers itching for your dick? or were you a radical feminist?
these women are meant to be radical turn heads be damned to where?
the theater is the space in between navels
abdomens tight reaching from the pelvis reaching with plaster reaching
face turned away from her lover the woman on the bottom is listening to her lover’s breath in and
out dust sweeping over her the earth coming to be
as her arm comes to cup her shoulder
the bodies mixing into one another
plaster meeting plaster and stone
it is loud what they do
press into the crease of knee meeting groin
usurp the old gods
fuck like mountains do
the woman on top is
her strong buttocks
facing the sky
body wet and awake to her lover
elbows pressing arms
hands a crown in stiff hair
legs long reach out drive the stars into corners
force the spectator to become
reclaim their sky
thighs open up welcome her lover into her
toes pierce the fabric and burn
the signature off the base,
Petra Dai Walech currently studies education policy and creative writing at University of Wisconsin Madison. She plans on attending law school in the fall of 2019, and will focus on human rights and environmental justice. Petra's writing focuses on the political body and its relationship to city, space, and history. The short film My Father (2016), set to prose written by Petra and directed by Jean Malek, has shown at Cannes and Sundance film festivals. Born and raised in Minnesota, Petra has had the fortune to live in Los Angeles, Minneapolis and Madison. She is a proud lesbian and feminist.