Three Poems: Joshua Garcia
Female model on platform rocker, 1977-78 —after Philip Pearlstein
Pendulum of feeling, it strikes in silence. I carry the ghost of him with me, back and forth. Our heads tilted upward, I can almost see our faces, eyes closed, rocks warming in the sun. Like the parquet, we have intersecting secrets. We lay the groundwork, glide with the mechanics of time. Just keep listening to yourself. I sit upright in my sleeplessness. I open doors, windows, make a fan of my body to create a breeze. What lies before us, I do not know, but the past spreads its wings. Outside, the lindens rusting, perfume expands like a memory. When I stand, the back of the chair will be imprinted on my skin.