Beggars

By Abbigail N. Rosewood

The beginning of loving with clarity: under the subway stairs, 

we crouch and beg for pause, 

for a halting 

glance, 

an exhale, 

recognition of our bastard soul. 

The rags we’ve assembled from a lifetime of performance trail our coattail like the venetian laced skirt of a bride. 

We are thick with decorations,

Pillars of fears.

We have never asked what-if ⎯  

what if we do not love our children, 

what if we want to murder our father, 

what if we fantasize of our mother’s naked breasts.

What-If

what if we regret our charity,

the puppetry of our marriage, 

our comedic commitment to one genital, one set of balls, 

one colorless labia the shape of a parenthesis,

when we crave thousands, thousands more nights.

One story that grows into another, the cock that unfolds like lilies’ petals into another cock, another vagina, another gasp of hopeless certainty that we are not who we claim to be. 

We are beggars under the subway stairs. 

We worship your short skirts and tiny waists.

A glimpse up your thighs toward a self more private, more conclusive. 

Today 

we beg you to see us,

we are your beggars in loving uniforms. 

We move toward the altar, the arch, in rags. 

We’re your children 

asking you to hear ⎯ what-if. 

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Abbigail Nguyen Rosewood (she/her) is a Vietnamese American author. Her debut novel If I Had Two Lives is out from Europa Editions. Her second novel Constellations of Eve is forthcoming from DVAN/TTUP, a publishing series founded by Isabella Thuy Pelaud and Pulitzer-winning author Viet Thanh Nguyen. Her short fiction and essays can be found at Salon, Lit Hub, Electric Lit, Catapult, BOMB, among others. She is the founder of the upcoming immersive art exhibit Neon Door. Follow her writing updates on her website.