it’s been a while, she said

since i made love — like a connection

with another human being

he doesn’t understand,

what making love means

and claims the only time

was once in his dreams

that’s interesting she says, was it wet?

but he just laughs

because he doesn’t understand what she said

instead he claims,

that, after all, it’s not about love —

but Sex



I try to convince myself

that it doesn’t matter,

but it does –

it always does.

The feelings

to be wanted,

to want someone

are not easily discouraged

Whenever it starts,

I always tell myself,

“Don’t get your hopes up”,

“It is only temporary”,

and then,

it hits me —

I get excited

I enjoy

the company,

and then, I have hope

that maybe,

this is it

this might be

something real,

but it never is.

There won’t be someone great.



I have had a man trace my body

as if it was a painting,

actions which speak volumes

to what one was thinking

any sensation

as graceful,

as delicate,

like fingertips drifting across water

without penetrating its surface

would instill enough ease

to drift into a sleep

where dreams remind you

of the warm sheets beside

and the air that fills

a blissful night



I know I need to stay away,

the dreams — they just won’t stop today,

your face is fixed within my mind

I’m forgetting why you were out of line

It will never be the way it was

when it was never a thing

that you could call something,

Still, I dream of you more

than the years before,

It doesn’t carry sense

and it makes me crave

what it felt like to be sore


I will keep us

suspended in this space,

So, I can avoid running into you

one of these days

and we will stay as we were

when it was a dream,

and we didn’t yet know

that we weren’t meant to be.



Renee D. Boucher

Renee D. Boucher

Renee grew up in Hillside, NJ and attended Rutgers University in New Brunswick, NJ. She is currently working on her PhD in Santa Cruz, CA.