Such Sweet Names

Written Febuary 2024

Notes: Gay as fuck

I hope I am the fattest fruit
the plumpish peach that caught your eye
lightly bruised
and firm
bleeding at the teeth,
running down the chin.
And I hope to dance in freakish fairy circles
the ones you blink and miss,
like lightning outside your bedroom window
the bush you huddled in
as a child
so small
and just for you.
I hope you cannot stay away,
drawn in by hot shot music
lights and hands
pictured in lipstick
sticky like the day you were born.
I hope I am the pansy in your tender fingers
open and
rolling like sunshine
creeping up your porchwood in vines and
ivy, kissing you pink
like twisted lemonade.
I will be moving,
a river or a creek
like stepping stones and lapping
tongues on leather heels.
I know that you remember me,
the lilacs at your door
I hope I am a crossroads on your drive to work
the scenic route,
the change of sky,
the chewy cake after supper,
the bangled wrists and holding
polished nails
laughter,
the strangeness in your chest
like fission
like fish in a barrel
shotgun shells and fleshy thighs
meat and fat and pungence
sitting in the driveway
spilling over like a waterfall or drinks
you can’t put down.
I hope I am the fag between your bitten lips,
smoking up your insides like a hand inside a glove,
I taste of vigor and taboo
tobacco as much as parchment
and fire on your tongue.