Stella Gleitsman

Bread Blue Planet

I’m a bread blue planet.

Among a crazy shuffle of blue.

I’m like

too intense

for the malt of the run.

For the sake of the gun.

I was a child that ate leaves.

Now I’m an adult among a wintry hail.

A wintry wait heaven.

When you touched me

you thought you had a firm grip

on a girl body.

When you touched me

I felt like sky.

Like cry.

When you touched me.

I didn’t even whimper a bit.

Didn’t even feel it really.

Every time I’m touched I feel like heaven.

I feel like grip.

Everything moves within me and I become responsive.

And I become a bold sparkle.

Yes I become responsive.

I wish I had a way to talk

But please know I’ll just respond.

There is a baby in me.

That’s not my daughter:

But it’s my spoke.

That rinses at the world.

That craves the world.

That bleeds the world.

Boasts the world.

It’s an animal

and it’s a blunt


I wish I knew how

to greet you

in a way that can

make you understand.


My body split in two.

Reclined in a malware.

Cold rhythm. Scope.

I’d love to be blue. 🔵

The whole color. The whole

world. God!

I’d love to be the whole world.

Watery + blue + baltic.

But you touch me.

I’m just a touch.

Stella Gleitsman (she/he/they) is a poet and artist based in Brooklyn currently attending SUNY Purchase. Their poetry is focused on the visceral texture of language and explores alienation in body, mind, and life through newfound poetic architecture. Their work also explores the radical feminist transmasculine perspective as a potent poetic politics. They hope to delve into sound poetry, poetic painting and sculpture, and printed matter.