Is this love?
The sun inserts itself
Into his dark red slit
And lets its golden light onto
His dark green shirt.

The jungle floor is wet today.
The space between its soil
Soaks your clothes--
The wound
Writhes with worms;
The wind screams in pain or ecstasy.

Is this ***?
You’re too young to know.
Barely a man.
Barely alive.

The Sun inserts itself
And you scream “NO.”
You’re on your knees.
You’re pressing it closed.
You’re closing the space.
You’re crying.

You’re not supposed to cry, you know,
For men you do not love.

Do you love your comrade?
Near Incestuous, they say,
Earth caressing Earth.
“Brother” caressing “Brother”
--You know it isn’t right
The way the sun still shines.
Mosquitoes still gorge themselves
On dewey wet skin fruit,
Still whisper slurs and violence
In your brain.

He’s spilling through,
And his arteries like pink sap trees
Squirt rosy colored leaves
Onto your trembling fingers.

Your friend
Is waiting open for you in the underbrush
Like a flower blossoming
In war or Spring.
His pollen stains your hands red.
The sunlight stains the red gold.
Too open,
Blurring the line between inside and out.
Muscle touching black skin touching black roots
Touching cavernous black hole mammoths
Up in heaven.

The sky and the skin
Drip into each other,
Fuse into each other,
--Gooey oblivion.
Kiss with tongue and fit so well
You can’t tell where his body ends.
And when they’re done He covers Him.
Into starlight ascends.

You love
Your friend.