They've buried many bodies,
but not the hatchet,
they say they never had a chance.
They didn't even try.
They've buried many bodies
some of them were alive.
It's much easier with bodies,
even if they're still moving,
it's much easier. One hour, maybe two.
And job is done.
"Hatchet? - they say - Oh man, it takes time!
It's pain in the ass! We won't do it. No.
at least not now. We're busy, too busy
to give it a try.
Let's bury those bodies first,
and then, before new ones arrives,
we can think about it,
and maybe even try
Tell me, love—
How many more poems
Do I have to write before
you realize that it is
you I write about?
How many more lines
Describing your stormy gray eyes,
Your heart-shaped lips—
Those lips my body is aching
How many more meaningful looks and
Stolen sidelong glances
Before you look into my eyes
And see the love that has glazed them over?
How many more times
Do I have to see your hand
Interlaced with someone else’s
Before you realize mine has been open,
Waiting for yours all along?
How many more unsent texts
At midnight when I can’t sleep
And all I need is you?
How much more, my love?
I’m afraid I cannot wait any longer.
Love is a monster tearing at my heart,
Soon to destroy me if I have to see you
With him once more.
What does it mean to be truly
naked for the one you love?
When you peel away the clothes,
ready to make love to one another?
In the kisses you share?
In the strokes of the flesh?
With butterflies in your stomach?
That's not being naked.
Being naked is when you bare it all
When you feel your lover trace over
the tales of your sacred body
and feel what you feel
It's only then that you can truly and proudly
say you're naked to your lover
That they are only yours.
And you are only theirs.
Here in Kentucky
We don't show our queer
Without a laugh or a fashionable button
I've learned my lack of identity makes others nervous
And I am a shotgun going off in the dark
I scare myself too
When I look in the mirror
Is that me or no
Or fifty percent and what half
And what half
Can I remove with a butter knife
And what half
Can I live with
Will I be okay with all of it or will I prefer a potato sack
To my skin
I ask you what do you think genderqueer means
And you answer
You're not wrong
It kinda feels like nothing
Staring at the Beautiful Woman on my screen
She has Parts
Big red lips smoky dark eye blonde sugarspun hair
I'd give my everything to be one of her somethings
Even though I know that's not what I should think
Shouldn't I be proud of my Parts
Thin lips pale eye fine hair
She'd give her everything to be one of my somethings
I don't think I'll ever love you but if you want the rain I'll be a thunderstorm
& if you prefer the warmer weather I'll burn so you can see the light of day
I'm not saying you'll ever be the one but I'm so used to all of these thoughts making me crazy
and with you I swear I never think at all
maybe I stopped believing in soulmates a while ago
but if there's such thing as bodies meant to dance and lips meant to touch
I think that's you and I