Monday, September 5
CENTRAL PARK No one watches when my lover picks me up & carries me to a bench, my legs wrapping his hips. I say 30 years ago we wouldn't get away with this, He says it's cause I pass. Meaning I don't. I've opened his sherpa, found his obliques. If I climb him, my hips will unpear, my face will be sharp and shadeless. If I keep scaling my lover, I'll still want him. It's late October. By the new year I'll be genderless as leaves breaking under his boots. (K. Iver)