sterling-elizabeth arcadia

bloodplay

—for Sofie Wise

after she takes my blood, the nurse directs me into room 40 in the R pod of the emergency room. i sit down and my back immediately starts spasming. the R must stand for restricted, because everyone has to be buzzed in and out of the area, and i think everyone has a one-to-one (a suicide security guard). sofie goes to the bathroom and a nurse asks me to get changed into grippy socks, little gauzy underwear, and a hospital gown with no ties. as soon as i take my hoodie dress off, sofie walks in. they laugh and leave. when i’m dressed, i open the door again and sofie sits down. i sit down next to them and the nurse snaps the button i didn’t see on the neck of the gown. i really thought they were going to leave me with my ass out, which, after standing up for a second, i realize is still true. i’m not sure whether or not sofie saw my tits when they walked in.

sofie, too

 —for Sofie Wise

i’m inpatient at the psych hospital and talking to sofie on the phone and i casually mention that people have asked if they’re my partner and point out that we’re not dating and sofie says “famously” and i say “i think the assumption is that the level of support is not equal to friendship” and also that they’ve been appearing a lot in the poems and sofie says they’ve been thinking about all that too and they say that we should probably talk about it and i agree and we both say we should talk about it. when i’m out of the hospital and in night meeting i call this convo the peak of my day and i listen to jessica lea mayfield’s “i miss you” and turn on her album of elliott smith covers with seth avett.

last night

—for Sofie Wise

it’s my last night inpatient and i’m pacing the hallway with new psych ward friend and me and new psych ward friend’s new psych ward friend, who’s actually been here since saturday. i tell them both that i want to write a new poem, probably about sofie. this morning i convinced myself that sofie was feeling overwhelmed by my needs. when i called them to tell them i got into a PhD, they confirmed that what they were actually feeling was a crush on me, and congratulated me on the PhD. i want to write something a little less insecure. me and new psych ward friend’s new psych ward friend is having his second breakdown of the day because the psych nurse still won’t give him the meds he needs. sofie and i have plans to meet up saturday or sunday. i hope we kiss.

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Statement of Homage

I wrote “bloodplay” the other month while Sofie was waiting in the emergency room with me for me to be admitted to a psych ward, “sofie, too,” when they first told me they liked me, and “last night” on my last night in that psych ward. They’re all part of a larger project that’s been influenced by her writing.

Sofie and their writing operate by observing and absorbing. Sofie invites readers to slip into the speaker’s mind and gaze. Their writing does not overtly judge, it sees, and sees deeply. In that seeing, readers may grow to know Sofie’s speakers.

Beyond her influence on my own writing, Sofie has been a profoundly caring friend. They drove me to the emergency department when I needed to go inpatient. She waited with me there until the ambulance came to take me to the psych hospital. They were the first person to call me when I checked into the psych hospital last month. When I picked up the phone and heard their voice, I felt relieved, cared for, seen. Ready to talk a little poetry.

Sofie Wise

Sofie Wise (she/they) is a poet and writer living in Philadelphia and pursuing their MFA at Rutgers—Camden. They were born in New England, have two cats, and have been published in venues including HAD, Passages North, and Hobart.

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