In Sea-Witch I never knew when I was having sex. Some bodies don’t lend themselves to a clear
separation of beginning or end & in some bodies that separation is too great. Exhausting, even. Mine has
always been some combination of both. Sex happens in Sea-Witch by taking “turns”. Each participant gets
a turn, followed by the other participant’s turn. Turns can look like anything & can take any amount of
time. Whole months have been spent on a single turn. A turn can be a pause, the drawing of certain
symbols in mud, or nearly endless tears. Most of my turns in Sea-Witch looked the same: creating sound
as quietly as possible near my lover’s hair or skin. If there is no sound to be made or hair or skin to be
found in the particular bodies we are inhabiting I am usually satisfied with anything I can connect to the
concept of “closest”. This is why my thoughts are shaped in the way they are now. Why draw symbols
when you can use all of who you are. When you can act as one yourself.
The following is a list of facts about my time in Sea-Witch:
1. When I was living in Sea-Witch I organized my life around the same principles many people living in
Sea-Witch did. The most important of those was When they come for us, we will climb the trees. This one
is very old & the origin is unknown. I don’t think anyone ever told me about it. When you get to Sea-Witch
there are certain things you just know.
2. Every night in Sea-Witch I slept deeply until I couldn’t sleep anymore. I had a feeling that things
happened while I was asleep in Sea-Witch, that my living space, my bed, my lover all changed in small
degrees, an entire revolution until they arrived back where they were before I fell asleep. I also felt as if
some didn’t make it the full way around. They felt too almost.
3. Everyone in Sea-Witch used to drown themselves in waves a lot. It was something to do to pass the
time, which is a really difficult thing to measure in Sea-Witch. We found the ocean for this under our beds.
The ocean in Sea-Witch is still there, under all the beds & all of Sea-Witch knows they can drown
themselves in it at any time, but they don’t. They just think about it.
4. At one point while I was living in Sea-Witch we all sat down for a very long time & looked at grass. All of
my best memories of Sea-Witch are from this time, but it had to end eventually.
5. The whole time I was living Sea-Witch I kept a stone in my pocket wrapped in old paper I tore from a
book & held together with hair ties. Every night I would wash it in Sea-Witch’s hair & feed it bits of
mushroom & herbs, whatever I had around. When I spoke to it I felt listened to. Before I left Sea-Witch I
gave this rock to Sea-Witch as a present, & she ate it, saying I will keep it safe here. I wrote her a thank
you note & signed it with all my names. I kissed Sea-Witch & felt the rock moving inside. When they come
for us, we will climb the trees.
SARA JUNE WOODS is a gay transsexual mess and also her own person. She made three books: Sara or the Existence of Fire (Horse Less Press 2014), Wolf Doctors (Artifice Books 2014) and the forthcoming Careful Mountain (Civil Coping Mechanisms, 2016). Her poems and art have been in Columbia Poetry Review, Gulf Coast, Diagram, Salt Hill, Guernica and the Denver Quarterly. She was part of the Trans Planet West Coast Tour this past summer and currently lives with her girlfriend-wife in an alley behind a drone store in Toronto.