Back In My Body
A surreal sex poem + a new workshop on embodiment
To the Lover I Lost like the Earth Loses Herself
through her own pores, volcanic crackle
to the sky, her breath like the curve
of an S at the top of her throat. The lover
whose arms I’d chalk with obscene
blue roses, one in the cupped corner
of your elbow, one in the arched
chestnut of your armpit. Your retinas
melded to mine, opaquing my future
like gauze. Like God. Like the gods
I un-altared at your knees. You, who
I loved on the bell-trilled hilltop
at high noon, who I could have loved
under every one-shouldered orange
moon. My lost lover, who tongued honey
on the inside of my cheek, made my heart
creak like yielding snow, uncurled my body
like a leaf standing to face the sun. The love
I lost, my road-rashed skin, my heart crumbled
like the sun-bleached bone of an old coyote.
- by Annalise Parady
originally published in Sky Island JournalI wrote this poem in Gather Poets in response to a meditation that Maria Giesbrecht created. It is significant to me that during a meditation, while I was tuned into my body, I was able to write like this - when I might not be able to on any given day. Writing is powerful in helping us metabolize things that are happening under the surface, still caught up in our bodies.
If that makes sense to you, you might be interested in a workshop Kelsey Britt and I are hosting next month on re-embodiment. This workshop is for anyone interested in the impact purity culture has on our bodies and our well-being. I am especially excited to work with Kelsey on this, who is both a writer and a somatic sex educator. We welcome people of all writing backgrounds (including none!) and all gender and sexual identities to come explore the subject.
The workshop will be on Sunday, March 15th, via Zoom, and you can sign up here. Kelsey and I would be so glad to gather with you as we all move back towards the safety and abundance of our bodies.
Questions? You can find FAQ’s answered on the event page, reach out to me via DM, or ask in the comments!
Hope to see you there if it’s a space that could meet you in your healing.
Take good care,
Annalise




Crying on a Wednesday morning as I'm reading this. This poem is so gorgeous, Annalise.
wow, Annalise, this is so beautiful!