i'm a little spoon cuddling big spoons via chatroulette

experimenting with a new form of poetry! here goes nothing!

photo courtesy of korfiotis on pinterest

note: this type of poem is called a contrapuntal poem, where two separate poems combine to form one poem that can be read in any order. i learned about this form in my poetry class, reading olio by tyehimba jess. for this poem, i would like you to read the non-italicized lines, then the italicized lines, and then read both sections as one poem. enjoy!

i’m a little spoon cuddling big spoons via chatroulette

the sweet sound of safety left me begging for more

the distance didn’t matter because they pulled me close via asterisks

though i’ve never cuddled in person before.

they stroked my braids via italics,

but in real life, i’m too scared to ask big spoons to cuddle me

i booped their nose via asterisks,

because i don’t want them to think i’m needy

i said, “i love you,” via italics,

or trying to put “n” in front of sfw.

and even when i run out of spoons from masking,

i wish i could double, one half kissing a big spoon to plant a lipstick garden on their face.

i reprised my little spoon role unmasking,

and i feel my other half hugging a big spoon without breaking my back.

my tears soaking their embrace. bracing myself for when

i need them i need them i need them.

they’re away from mac or dell or chromebook or hp.

don’t touchscreen-and-go. i tell myself that cuddles are a waste of time for big spoons

it’s okay; i’m used to big spoons playing touchscreen-and-go with me

when they have irons in the fire that they put out by working nonstop.

or draining me until i have no energy left to stay in chatroulette.

But by the time i come home from school, i’m tired and wanna embrace a warm embrace.

is it really just a phase when these fanfiction fantasies fill my brain?

oh, how i wanna go to bed using a chest to rest my weary head,

how i want to extend my hugs

because my pillows can’t absorb the tears i cry rehearsing how to ask for cuddles

until i overextend past the big spoons’ boundaries and i’m writing apology notes

that always backspace themselves before the final drafts take up space in my newsletter.

i’m sorry for being too needy. but i need you i need you i need you.

just whisper, “everything will be okay,” until i power down

i’m tired of needing myself to survive

so i’d feel relieved from

the pain of thinking “i’m not good enough” thoughts,

the starvation of not being touched.

Everyone needs cuddles to feel loved sometimes, so come to mama.

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