Redacted Love Letter, May 31st

By Chloé Allyn




I wonder Frances, will you love me?

This day has a bad

feeling, less bad than the last few days, Frances

because today I woke up thinking of you of waking up

to you in my bed but instead

there’s metadata & enemy lines in my mind


How do you suture the plot points together when

you don’t understand the language let alone story

how do I explain to my cat Plato’s Allegory of the Cave

when she chases the shadow of her toy instead. Can you


give a voice to a mind that doesn’t think in language?


Frances, how do words sound to you? I happened on

your haikus when we shared websites is that

what lovers do?

I’ve been accused of turning romance into stone

stealing shared time like a dragon, a little proof beyond

what is witnessed; what gets mixed up in the

bureaucracy of my mind; isn’t that just

another word for paperwork? Your memorials

of syllables, looking back, it’s a mirror. I’m not


jealous, as it was with me, only doubtful.

Look, I get it

The patriarchy has an embassy in my mind. Run by atomic

men & women filing paper work about what not to do.


Frances how do I write the story of loving you


of loving a woman,

a study of my very first fantasy

a quiet hideaway of hate. To craft a voice for


my own mind that thinks so strictly in this language

of who I’m not allowed to be.



Chloé Allyn is an Indigenous poet who writes of the natural world, love, and pleasure. Her work has been featured in WUSSY Mag, SCAD Connector and The Bastard's Review.



Art by Lois Emma Harkin

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