No more of those beautiful boys.*

**** beautiful boys and how they
make my wrists glow blue in the nights they're pressed against the sheets, 1:00 am. Thinking of those glowing blue eyes, glowing perfectly straight teeth, their glowing blue souls, glowing blue halos, I glow into the night and keep the blue blue blue owls awake.

Angelic hoodlums and holy ones.

**** their gorgeous noses and the way the roses they give me don't melt in the moonlight like my fingertips on their gorgeous skin. I play the strings of their heart like a harp, gorgeous and gory and plucked clean like doves feathers on the gorgeous graveyard ground of my ribcage.

All those beautiful boys, tattoos of ships and tattoos of tears.

The quiet giggle I allow myself to make, the quiet way my eyes roll back at your breath, the quiet and killing way I can't see past it.

I thought I was over this last October

*No more of those beautiful boys.