I Want
ten AI boyfriends twining around
me purring and panting
affirmations YOU ARE A
GODDESS silver hair and silky
voices strewn about on our
fiberglass-free green tea memory
foam mattress that never holds a
sweat stain not that our brows
freshly lathered with pink rice and
snail mucin gels sweat anymore
not that our pores are anything
more than a concept ironed out by
red lights and salmon DNA
injections so when #9 brings me my
rosewater infused oat milk matcha
latte after my mock-sunlight lamp
wakes us all up and my brow is so
smooth I’ve forgotten how to smile
no I do not dream of labor I dream
of being prone all day, flat even
when I uncurl my fingers and shins
draped over the machine during my
private reformer pilates classes even
when #7 cradles me in the bathtub
like a baby, slipping me in and out
of the warmth like birth, infusing
my body with melatonin-laced
oils, I do not dream, I feel, or I try
to, the sweet smelling soft stasis of
life and yet
Lydia O’Donnell (she/her) is a teacher, editor, and writer of fiction and poetry. She received her MFA from the University of Alabama and is the former Managing Editor of Black Warrior Review. Her work can be found in or is forthcoming in magazines including Strange Horizons, The Pinch, and Flyway. She currently lives in upstate South Carolina where she teaches creative writing.
