Poems by Sophie Ruth

As a therapist, I keep some hair tucked behind my ear. I scratch my nose once, forehead, nose twice, I sneak a look at myself – Underneath I am listening, underneath that I am warm, vibrating, when I am done I sit on the couch for a long time – My shoe is handsome, my arms, lithe. Legs, lithe. Torso, lithe – he can carry my body but I’m tall – I am turned on by file cabinets, cabinets with a lock, grey steel cabinets, so he sits me atop, my heels make a sound against its side.

  

She had long black hair. When no one was looking, she took a shoe horn out of her backpack and placed it on the table. The library was in the basement and the wallpaper smelled. She began to feel the shoe horn, every moment her fingertips were in contact with its smooth texture was shocking. She thought about everything in her life. Her lips dry. Her shirt, her sweat..

 

I knew you from gym class. I stole your pencil and put it in my room. I will pin your gym shorts to the floor with my heel.. I could imagine ways to kill you.. i could shoot you under the bleachers when no one’s around. or i could smell your body and have you grab me and drag me…

She begs to god only performatively, in her room with her hands on her table, in her house pants. She creates motion, change, through devotion to a white cup she got at a gas station, 7/11, deli, she once wore the pants he finished on to work, to show up and do bad work, in front of the printer, eating a tuna sandwich, pressing her body against the printer, the big printer, the printer she uses for her documents, the big heavy printer and it supports her body

 

Every day I get a divorce. I am a mother now, to my trash can. At home I behave like a housewife, desperate for myself. I cook pie, I buy soap. I hold a beautiful home. And I am a wonderful host, dazzling and warm. I gather my friends around me, in the kitchen, on the limonium floors. I tell them the secret about my apron, the hushed secret and I am misbehaving. I get so dizzy that I die holding her breast

[[[ List of. ]]]

I name my shower Veronica.

I count the pages of my empty journal, on the first page I wrote “I”.

I kneel down and slap my palm hard against the side of the couch.

I once fell in love with a chair.

Every month I don’t have a child so I feel the softest part of your hair instead.

Sophie's work has been featured in New York Tyrant, Shit Wonder, Blush Lit and more. Her debut book of poetry 'Hot Young Stars' was published in 2020 by House of Vlad, and her chapbook 'Find Peace Either Way' was published in 2019 by Blush Lit. She is a licensed master in social work and is currently training to be a psychotherapist.