#uma dwivedi

[words-like-sea-glass]

I think we make somewhere new. A slash in the side of a world that doesn’t want us. Our own gap of light. You find me here, in the place that exists only to hold us together. Touch me, my monster, as close as you can get. Touch me and maybe I can lean into your palm, maybe who we become when we are watched is another place we can leave behind

frankenstein’s monster and michelangelo’s angel - Uma Dwivedi

[tenderblues]

She that I love is a vision. She sings in a language I do not know. Perhaps an elegy or an ode—a work song, a song of war. It is not mine to say. It is not mine to question, to beg forgiveness, to look away.

Uma Dwivedi, “Aisling at the Ballard Locks”

[fluttering-slips]

Nocturne with Rain

​​I am writing of rainfall as my bedroom burns. We are trying to make the best of things, we are all of us doomed. Here’s the smoke, her vicious quickening, hungry tendrils, here’s the moment where I write you, write rain, & mean any nameless god that will take me as a lover. I’m greedy. I want someone to adore on my knees. You thunder me open, flush me through, hold me closer than skin. I tell you I love you & my heart is skinless on the floor, it is all that crouches between me & my most wretched twin. The smoke breaks my kneeling heart, but darling, we are still here. I want to press your body against my flaming door. I live in hope unbearable: your mouth open wide enough to hold our flight. Uma Dwivedi

[i-just-want-to-destroy]

ANGEL: what more must I do? what more must I do to avoid hurting anyone? I can’t move, can’t expand, I can’t even touch you. I will smile until the day I burn. I’ve abdicated my own desires, I have made myself a place of refuge. you asked what the point is of being beautiful in a way others can understand. the point is that beauty isn’t for me. I carved myself down to beautiful just so no one would look at me and feel pain. what more do you want from me?

Frankenstein’s Monster and Micheangelo’s Angel: A Dialogue Between Two Trans Inhumanities, Uma Dwivedi

[i-just-want-to-destroy]

Frankenstein’s Monster and Micheangelo’s Angel: A Dialogue Between Two Trans Inhumanities, Uma Dwivedi

[Text ID: 

Angel: I love you.

Monster: you don’t mean that.

Angel: how would you know?

Monster: if the person you love doesn’t know you love them then you have failed.

Angel: person? who do you think you’re kidding?

/End ID]

[i-just-want-to-destroy]

Mama thinks she’s always right. & why shouldn’t she? Didn’t she tell me I would die?

Mama & I Talk About Salvation, Uma Dwivedi

[i-just-want-to-destroy]

this essay on fleabag by uma dwivedi

[mortalpractice]

she knows my name, speaks it often,              & this I will call love                 in the absence of something sweeter, my heart, I’ll call a door, so I am spared any flexing, myself,                      trapped so that someone else might save me. 

— Uma Dwivedi, from “mouth (the task of a name),” published in Up the Staircase Quarterly