i tell you you’re pretty
then “no homo”
at two in the morning.
i’m in an apartment
above a garage
about to burst into flames.
i tell you a lot of things,
opting for white hearts,
the red forbidden.
“you’re awesome” as a proxy
for “i’m fucking attached,”
checking you like a sore in a mouth.
still hurts.
i will enjoy this anyway.
there’s smoke in the air, but
it’s probably nothing to worry about.
these dreams i’m hunting you for sport
and you like that,
blood draining from your brain
down into your ego,
that gorgeous organ
swelling and twitching
under my palm.
i know you want this
small edit to the food chain:
breathless, blameless, animal.
but there’s what we want
and what these strange, natural forces
tell us to want: more
warm blood flowing to the places
that doom us and, one day,
make it hurt.
at two in the morning
i tell you everything
already hurts.
i will enjoy this anyway.
________
kat giordano was born in philadelphia and it's been downhill ever since. their third poetry collection, THUMBSUCKER, is available for preorder from malarkey books. they are also the author of two other poetry collections, a novel, and several embarrassing internet meltdowns. kat is very cool. you like them.
thumbsucker link: malarkeybooks.com/store/thumbsucker
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