don't really like how i'm pronouncing 'i' in the drawly american way
someone i love told me i sound calm and content
i'm here beginning

somebody else 16.9.5

hanya yanagihara made me cry

-

always that same theory, where my chest swings open like a door, nothing to it, until
a rib chips, shards of me firework into you, grazing slick past your skin, one quick
meteor shower, a fortissimo coda: this must be the swan song you lusted for. this is
your foie gras, your happy meal, your pasar malam cup corn cycled to rendezvous 
lover waiting at hdb void deck. every eye level on me, I am the parade that will pool
at their feet. but there is only one summer in this dream, birthed at the loom, hung
by its hips in the living room of the city. for each satellite mistaken for a star we share
a cigar; by dusk we can no longer see each other through the smoke. three laps swum
to ward off sleep, then an oath to send something from wherever I end. upstream a book
lies open, downstream a bear waits for fish  to come. between the book and bear we dance
in silence and keep beat. this is your bicycle brake, seashell keepsake, your forever conceit.

ofsunflowers