& girls so many girls with long locks & red locks & curls & locked
doors you try to break into & out of & bare feet & the streets
you don’t look both ways crossing & all the ways you close your eyes & reach
to find what’s nearest by touch & touch & touch & touch &
touch my love you want to touch & be held even when touch
doesn’t want you back & the girls in the pool were twice
your age & you had them surround & carry you & touch
your shoulder when they were the Sharks or the Marcos & they don’t know
you are no Mino or Polo or game & they tell you it’s okay
when you touch them & from across the pool I see your hands reach
for their chests & glutes & thighs & no & no & no & no it’s not
okay I tell the girls & these are your bodies & at 12 & 13 & 14 & no
he is not excused because he’s so cute & young & no his hands are not without
intent & no this touch & touch & touch & this is not the first & robots
he says he will invent one that talks & laughs & plays & yes touches & wants
to be touched & yes I say your mind is limitless & yes I say to wanted
touch & even if you teach a robot how to feel its limbs will carry
your desires & no my love my hungry boundless little love & this
is not the same as want & yes you are still so young & yes
it may be too early to worry about the robots & girls & locks & bare
feet & touch & touch & touch & no
imaging want doesn’t make true
Julia Kolchinsky is the author of four poetry collections: The Many Names for Mother, Don’t Touch the Bones, 40 WEEKS, and Parallax, finalist for the 2025 Miller Williams Poetry Prize. She is an assistant professor of English and creative writing at Denison University.
