It’s 2:30 am, the time

I’m supposed to forget,

when we open our legs

for gruff solace. Romance

took a hike two hours ago

and I want what’s wrong—

uncouple the body from love,

sweet fuck, I want you

on display, or with another man.

I want you meaningless.


What happens when I hold on

too long—lost in anxiety,

my escape, this idea of sex. So

I call you instead, wanting

a way out. Better to listen

to the phone ring, keep me

focused. Maybe if I told you,

if we talked it through,

cut me down…


Sometimes our kisses keep

their old meaning—I remember

how to love, or how I might.

Six more hours until church.

Do you believe in divine

intervention? I believe

in losing phone numbers,

memories, old dreams.

I don’t want you

to pick up, I don’t

want to want at all.

Published online March 11 2007.

Poets Who Swing Both Ways cover image

This piece was published in ‘Poets Who Swing Both Ways,’ the Spring 2007 issue of CV2.

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