Gillian Ebersole

inspired by Raquel de Alderete

she said I was like the wind. my life is a string and I wanted to kiss her knees to pass the time. I 
wanted to stop speaking my declarations as if they were questions. when she sat on her desk we 
were both reeling. it takes more than a bottle of tito’s to fix a dead fish and an unmade bed. 

please hold me, I’m sorry. please hold me, we will trade small notebooks in the second of 
darkness before the bathroom light turns on. I want to be like your cassette collection or at least 
in your car long enough to drive the length of the pacific coast with you. I want burnt blankets 
and weighted mornings and the space between your bed and the garden. I regret every 
unknocked door. between capital and lowercase letters I try to decipher your flannel – just tell 
me to go. it would be easier, really. 

as if this were a postcard, breathe in my faded perfume and rip it up. 

link to video

Gillian Ebersole is a poet, dance critic, and researcher, as well as a dancer and choreographer. She graduated Summa Cum Laude from Loyola Marymount University with a dual degree in Dance and English. Performed on stages in Los Angeles, Denver, and Paris, her choreographic work merges her love for language and movement. She is a staff writer for the London-based arts collective Bachtrack, as well as a guest columnist at LA Dance Chronicle. Her poetry has been published by Attic Salt, Pomona Valley Review, MAYDAY Magazine, and Weasel Press. Her forthcoming debut chapbook, The Water Between Us, won the Charlotte Mew Prize and will be published by Headmistress Press in 2021.