15

cut your arm

like the velveteen slacks you make out of scratch.

with a name dropping –

heart stopping –

rat-a-tat-tat on the window

that fogged from the snow

+ left to his own devices –

he never knows where to go

but he wants to make love

in the hubbub of burning his thumb

on the family stove.

close the window you scoundrel its getting cold

boys like boys

who pierce their lips

+ vape inside a park –

shut your mouth its getting dark.

+ twist his arm

like the wishy washy wishbone

straight from the bird

with a pitter-pat-pat from

the feet of the dog

on the floor where the storm can be heard

but –

the boy likes the boy like

the dog likes the ball

+ he’d rather hold hands

than do nothing at all

but –

he wants to makeout

+ he wants to wake up to –

break one soul.

break them all.

young hearts beating

stickshift breathing

boys like boys who give them reason

young hearts beating

stickshift breathing

boys like boys who dont

Published by featherquills

i am a misfit and a wanderer, captivated by the mysteries of the universe and the secrets of humanity.

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