theboygoesdark
theboydespairs
buthe’sintheresomewhere
iknowhe’sthere
theboyisamemeticdream
hisconsciousnessaconstantstream
honestlyi’dlikeifhe
couldxyzalloverme
985
honey. listen here. you can’t see
or know who i am, but i’ve been thinking
about this gap
about this refusal to love anything else.
about you, i guess. about you. i wish
the brain was more callous than it is, so
i might push this meandering want as far
away from me as possible. but all i can do is want.
& watching is pretty close to that
i wish touching were possible
through an ocean, or a screen. wish something
magical was arriving, so filled with grief i’m
your damn apostle, you are as scintillating as
wet lips on marble,
a pearl smudged to utter decadent completion.
Read morefuture emily,
you’re here. hello, and thank you. it’s the nineteenth of july in the year 2022. you are currently (as of writing) on a gap year. you have been enjoying the immense rest.
i have many questions. mostly, i want to know what you are doing. are you happy? are you grateful. how is everyone? mum; dad; the rugrats. how’s your health? i’m sure you’ve been thinking about that a lot, too. it’s always so up and down.
when i think about the future, i’m not sure exactly what excites me most. i’m thrilled and nervous about all of it. i have my moments of intense restlessness because i often want everything, all at once, right now. are you still impatient like that? or do you have it all?
Read morethe day i won the lottery in Heaven
i was given the choice of an afterlifetime supply
of anything at all that my heart desired.
i didn’t much need to think: i asked, of course,
for fire.
lucid loving
i’ve requested help from
all the world’s rivers, oceans,
& beaches
to supplement this terrible
sweetness, this shot-through
barrel swiftly losing liquid
through all this loving lucid
the wetness winding into a sigh
these spiralling circles of desire
how is it to be doused
but still unbearably on fire ?
make it constant
you are insanely divine, i can’t even explain
i feel safe around you. i just know
you’re special, & i adore you
damn beautiful
i’ll tell ya a little secret
a lot of things can be surprising, really
but being with you ?
it’s a victory.
“you sure know how to make a boy feel…”
special, is what he said, before following it up with
one of the most divine things a soul could sing: you
really are very funny; & i know he’s probably humouring me…
advice from an older sister
who am i to give it ? i’m pathetic, i’m half-
finished; i’ve not discovered a poem useful;
just like He, i do agree, i’ve not yet
made a thing that’s lasting
so when brother comes to me, little seeker,
i’m all surprise, i’m all a bit tender,
and taken aback and unprepared and
wholly ego, only trembling
i know that i know that i know nothing
or something very close to that.
but still, i give what’s only borrowed
my next best guess, my shot at it.
isabel…
after the movies, but before the train station,
we hugged goodbye. i said, see you, like i always do;
unthinking, she hummed i love you,
then gasped. the perfect casual accident.
we parted ways in blushing silence,
my shock too thick to shake. though
across percussive tracks, an engine chanted
what i couldn’t…
you too you too you too
all the way home, you too, you too.
little Saint Harry
actual adoration
my irises turn to hearts & i write a word
for the first time. i’ve never gone so blurry-eyed
in under a second flat.
how thrilling and divine,
the exactmost pleasure of the poet…
to write about you, lyrically; to know
you could (indulgently) enjoy it…
honestly ?
a poem can never be helped, it
walks into the room at the same moment you do
this flush so close to permanence
have i told you that i adore you yet ?
Read moreto have someone love you
in the slack dark of the dampest, most
tired spring evening—while they are trying
to sleep & you’re rambling—
& the day after, too, in the heathland,
between blocks of mushroom & the crunch
of pulverising shoe—while you unravel & they
are so natural in listening—
to have someone paint the needle-thin petals
on every flower for you—to have someone love
you so easy—to remind you of the miracle
of breathing
phntmlove(r)
i do think about it. i have desired—
uh, rewind—on & on, i have wondered,
bordering curious & perhaps perverse
about the cool midnight breeze
taking the shape of an invisible
lover, or maybe just a flurry of
translucent kisses…
honey-voiced hymm saying emmy!!!
sampling your voice
you know you do it all the time, that breathy
loveliness, that reminder of other activities –
will you stay exactly there ?
couldn’t be any closer, couldn’t wish for a timbre
deeper, or any more sweetening that goes on –
would you put me out or the fire ?
no more questions, only water
to oil a shadow
is it possible to oil a shadow ?
to slickly soak the blank smoothness,
indulge in the curious essence of
the divine void divide…
been ruminating on & in the shadows
of how they’re not quite holes (maybe that
i provide) but still, still, still
an absence…
& lastly, how it could be true—
well, now, if thinking wishfully—
that perhaps the dark could slot right in,
eclipse this slant-shaped beam of mine.
how to make a man: a recipe
all the honey in the world
& curls, curls, curls
the loveliest eyes
of anticipated & much enjoyed mass destruction
patience & tenderness
& too much of it, really
if there ever was a man,
blushing women everywhere pray
the man is just like him.
i’m not sure what to say
but i’d be willing to
try. i just don’t understand
poetry. are you supposed
to be vague ?
it’s like you’re hiding
the message.
sophia
