For one stone thrown at you, queer one,
There is another you throw at yourself
                      At the mirror you refuse to look at
                      At the lover you refuse

                      At the lover who refuses you

                      At your parents
                      At your friends
                      At your country

Keep the stone.

*

The ocean is blue and the waves are much the same
Not much else new can be said about it

You can say it with me:

"I am perfect for you."

"I am more perfect wet against your mouth."

Your body is new

With the force of a word

The pleasurable force of fingers inside you
Taking you to places beyond this

What shudders

Into the blue wet salty sea?

You swallow a strange fullness for the first time
And surface whole.

*


Accept the tender parts.

And how between
Breathing and sinking

You are more alive
In "little deaths".