queer love
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I’ve fallen in love with the light-
A warm, honey-coloured being
Whose movements mimic
The cascading torrent
Of a summer monsoon.
Our bodies are crooked-pigmented- pressure points.Stacks of lose boards. Mine throat a crumbling stone chimney.Yours a pipe bending with all the pressure built up in you're chest. We creek in the way neglected floor boards do under weight. Hands,
Define 'happy'....
feel smiling so quickly your brightness radiates out, and blinds you.
But even blind you see 'happy' because the sound of your laughter,
in blacked-out eyes, paints the northern lights on your mind.
Floor 89.
I think I'm dying,
Could it be that I have forgotten how to breathe?
In and out with every breath my lungs repeat
