I

My skin tells me where my body is
When it splits, when it bleeds — it writes me in the sheets
into the streets. Where her body is, where his body lies —
they split me in the streets, and I sink into my sheets

Writing with white ink — you who so good with words
It isn’t always what it seems when you’re face to face with me
Not that we can see what you say, read what you writhe

Sometimes weird is pretty
Sometimes words are pretty
Never meant to cause you sorrow, bring you any pain
Even as I felt I might be drowning in my paint.

We can never look away
oh, we’ll never look away
Under the shadow is where we’ll stay
Under the shadow where we can play

II

III

Many have come and gone. And yet I think you’ll stay —
even when you’ve gone. In late night texts. Godforsaken snacks. Unbridled sex
Maybe we’ll live together in a photograph of time. No one is going to
take me away from you — there’s no one left to take

If only I could see your face once more. Your hair upon my pillow
like a slippery summer storm. Not that it’ll pull me from the wreckage
of my silent reverie. I let my guard down, thought that we would engage
At times am filled with rage — a fistful of love
invaded by a feeling

There’s always some reason to feel not good enough
our bodies don’t forget. Times I want to call you, but I won’t let myself regret
that you felt like home. All my secrets buried in my skin
Does the pain outweigh the pride?
Maybe tonight.

Sometimes words are pretty
Sometimes weird is pretty
Even as I swore as I was drowning in my paint
Never meant to cause you sorrow, any pain

We can never look away
oh, we’ll never look away
Under the shadow where we can play
Under the shadow is where we’ll stay

I love crowds. And their insincerity, their impersonality
They let me feel alone — let me be part of them
and apart from them

We can never look away
oh, we’ll never look away
Under the shadow where we can play
Under the shadow is where we’ll stay

V

Every day I think still of you
But maybe you’d rather not hear me
singing pretty lines. Humming rhymes
Writing weird lines

I like methinks singers who close their eyes —
playing not to the crowd be they
My lines, I take from everywhere but they don’t make them
any less mine

Sometimes weird is pretty
Sometimes words are pretty
Only seemed to have caused you sorrow, to have brought you pain
Even though I’d never drown you in my paint

We can never look away
oh, we’ll never look away
Under the shadow is where we’ll stay
Under the shadow where we can play

…

Jeremy Fernando reads, writes, and makes things. He is the general editor of Delere Press; curates the thematic magazine One Imperative; is the Jean Baudrillard Fellow at The European Graduate School; co-creator of the private dining experience, People Table Tales; and the writer-in-residence at Appetite, the sensorial laboratory exploring the cross-roads of food, music, and art. Most recently, he has — alongside his dear friend, the realist- figurative painter and fellow lover-of-food, Sara Chong — brought- forth their book, Dinner for One, a space in which recipes, paintings, photographs, tales — of, on, about, with, containing, alongside — ingredients, kitchen encounters, meals, memories of culinary experiences, recountings of memorable noms, gather.