Alexandra Cherian
Submarine revolver solstice
submarine. outstretched
hand. the way light passes
through water. air.
standing on tiptoes.
dance. fall. sudden
depths. riptide. abandon.
pull. fury. grasp. the
sound of emptying a bath.
the space between.
revolver. deep breaths.
coyote. hot summer night.
sand on boots. sand
between toes. hunger.
chase. the taste of sweat.
the ache that comes with
rest. bloodlet. fortune.
eyes. wide brim.
the uncertainty of a coin
toss.
solstice. turn. the
sensation of dry grass
underfoot. sunburn.
reaching earthward.
gather. lay bare. hillside.
stone fruit. ascent.
assurance. spool of
thread. feeling faint.
halves. red bloom. feeling
the world on a tilt.
after alfred hitchcock’s Rope (1948)
Put him in a box. Put his body in a box and close the lid on the box with a body in it. Keep the body in the box before the guests arrive. Now he’s out of sight. Now we don’t have to look at him. Now there’s nobody except us. Put a cloth over the box so it looks more decorative. So they don’t disturb the lid on the box that keeps the body hidden. Maybe a candle too. No one knocks over a candle.
Next hide the rope. The one we tied around his neck. Take the rope from around his neck before he goes in the box and put it somewhere no one would question there being a rope. If it were still around his neck I think there’d be questions. I think about your neck. I hope no one knocks over the candle.
But we have guests coming soon so set the table. No. Set the box. Place the plates on the cloth atop the box with a body in it. We’ll all eat in the living room. It’ll be a ‘grazing table’. Tell me what a good idea this all is. Tell me I astound you. Tell them he’s just running late. Such a shame he’ll miss the champagne.
There’s a body in a box in our living room and I’ve never felt more alive with you. When our guests arrive you’ll delight them with piano. A different kind of box with strings and keys. Not a body and a cloth and a candlestick. I always wished I had your talent but the next best thing is having you. Because now we’re here together until they all leave and we can open the box.
When there’s nobody except us.
Alexandra Cherian (she/they) is a filmmaker, writer, and girltwink extraordinaire from Te-Whanganui-a-Tara. She has been published in bad apple, Overcom and The Quick Brown Dog, and is a founding member of the queer filmmaking collective The New New.
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