Skyler J Keiter-Massefski

EMBODIMENT HAS NOT BEEN KIND TO ME LATELY

Image ID: Two black and white photographs of the author’s forearms laying out on a desk, edited together with a crack shaped line down the center. Both arms have multiple tattoos on them, and several black squares & rectangles have been edited over portions of each arm, blocking of fragments of skin and tattoos. To the right of the image are the typed words, “pick up the pieces fill in the cracks cover the scars / don’t feel the pain separate body from brain act as if no trauma remains.”

ECSTACY LOST


Once upon a time I 
knew how to dance, knew 
how to give my
body over to the arms 
of a stranger without fear and 
move in 
sync with the music. 


Before the breaking, there was 
dancing – movement and bodies and 
sound meshed together (the moments 
my body was more than itself) 


in the 
sweaty town dance hall or the
street rave in Galway or the club 
down the street or the rooftop in Peru or 
Berlin/Brooklyn/Boston, a million 
places I’d rather be… 


dancing. 


Then there was dying, 


and there was
no more dancing – 


only a narrowing.

Image ID: A black and white full-body portrait of the author leaning against a stone pillar on a front porch. Several black squares and rectangles have been edited over portions of the author’s body, blacking out more than half of the full body. Their eyes can still be seen, smiling. To the left of the image are the typed words “go too far,” to the right, “no more body left to restore.”

AFTER LIFE


I promise it wasn’t really death 
I desired (though with livability 
foreclosed, how could I possibly 
truly know). Only to suspend 
corporeality for a moment – take a 
step back, survey the scene; map 
out the timeline of what went 
wrong when, as if I could go back 
and try again. 


Does why really matter 
in the end? Must I give an 
explanation of the final 
straw? Over-apologize 
for wounds left by the 
shards? 


Bare survival just wasn’t enough 
anymore – flirting with ghosts 
and then closing the door … 
wholeness is a fantasy, intactness 
always fallacy: I fell apart, 
let the shattering take 
hold (gave my body over 
to the vulnerable soul).

Image 3: A black and white photograph of the author’s bare stomach, which has been written on in sharpie and reads, in all capital letters, “Survivor stories are written on my body”. A small faded triangle tattoo can be seen in the bottom left corner, and to the right is a tattoo of the symbol of the National Eating Disorders Association with a semi-colon inside it. To the left of the image are the typed words, “drop all the pieces open the cracks uncover the scars / crash to the floor let the tears pour forgive my body for keeping the score.”

ECSTACY FOUND


Cruel optimism says 
there’s a better future in store – 
keep the fragments intact and 
find a reward. Serve Capital’s 
god: produce and be saved 
(while digging an ever-deeper 
grave). 


A choice now to be made: 
work until the bitter 
end (the horizon of rest 
deferred again), or dare to live
shattered – not to stay in despair 
or wallow in pain, but to 
find liberation in bodies 
abandoned. Let the phoenix-flamed 
idol of resilience 
stay broken. 


And if, in the end, 
stuck time can’t 
be escaped or the 
impassable interregnum 
is all that there is, 
I might as well dance 
while I’m here.

Image ID: A portrait photograph of a young light skinned person with many facial piercings, wide glasses, and dyed red hair. They are smiling at the camera. They are wearing a black sweater, a simple silver chain necklace, and bright red lipstick.

Skyler Jay Keiter-Massefski is a theological anthropologist and poet whose work focuses on trans/crip embodiment, ghostliness, and dancing new worlds into being. They have a B.A. in Anthropology from the University of Massachusetts Amherst and a Master of Divinity degree from Yale University. Their first chapbook, Encounters in the Crisis Ordinary, is forthcoming in 2023. Skyler can be found on Twitter @skylerjay_