editorial notes on a to-do list, march 2021 by Tori Ashley Matos
CW: Covid, death

as i think about it
i wouldn’t
know how to get
to the train anymore.
i wouldn’t know how
to put money on my—
that word’s gone.
i cannot remember kissing.
in theory i can
if daydream can be made theory
in as many coffee mugs
make up a year.
i am heavy—
body bigger yes,
but heavier in time.
it must be very american to think
that time has found a way
to keep its diary
around the cavern of me.
but i know the tickle
inside me is a clock
and i have never known fear
like trying to outrun
time
when it pumps my blood for me.
i cannot imagine the way a bar smells.
it was standing water
maybe cologne
and beer and endings and beginnings and fluids.
vapor.
they have moleculized into the ozone.
the ozone that we
have spent time away from
o imagine wasting
anything’s golden years
the way we’ve wasted
so many rebirths.
i remember breathing while i walked—
always forward.
that’s the thing about it.
and it takes
that breath away.
of all the things i forget
i still remember what forward
felt like.
tori ashley matos is a trans non-binary and afro-latinx poet and actor based in nyc. they graduated from NYU's Tisch School of the Arts and have been published in no, dear mag, perhappened, lickity split, cobra milk, curlew quarterly, and more. follow them on instagram @toriashleymatos or twitter @torireadsagain