Issue |
 |
Sept |
|
a poem by Sean Patrick Conlon
instructions for the first boy I bring home from the bar
after I leave you
desperation pulls up the night
like an ugly coat, trimmed in stratus,
keeping the cold universe out
of view, obscured. I like it
when you hold me.
Your skin is brilliant
sunlight through mist, white foam
the unswimmable water between bodies
as thin and impermeable
as the distance between love
and misery. I like
the liquor on your breath,
the way you call me 'angel'
as you run your hands down my back
just to prove yourself
wrong.
If in making love, I am a corpse,
so be it. My face is a mask of grey clouds.
Cover me in the paint of flattery,
bring color to these lips
like the memory
of life.
like an ugly coat, trimmed in stratus,
keeping the cold universe out
of view, obscured. I like it
when you hold me.
sunlight through mist, white foam
the unswimmable water between bodies
as thin and impermeable
as the distance between love
and misery. I like
the liquor on your breath,
the way you call me 'angel'
as you run your hands down my back
just to prove yourself
wrong.
so be it. My face is a mask of grey clouds.
Cover me in the paint of flattery,
bring color to these lips
like the memory
of life.