It is summer, here we are somewhere high enough to feel it, my sweaty palms on a rusted railing,
YOUR sneakers are dangling like we’re kids again and we’re testing the limits of a seesaw, I think our
hands are sticky with melted candy because your skin clings to mine, hot and damp like something just
born or something dying. Below, cars shriek, and rubber peels from pavement, I think maybe that’s a
body twisting midair, meeting concrete and splitting open, something wet and red inside, and we are
watching and wrist-deep in the moment. I think this is like when I clenched my teeth and felt GOD
crawl inside me, felt Him pull out, slow, an unmaking, a leaving, something thick left behind, I tell
GOD I want my body to tear and to bleed for creation, but I am a boy, and boys do not split open, so I
think I go lay on the grass, look up at the sky, and eat a panini.
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