This bulge resists fascists
through my boxers, every yawning day has seen us underneath its sky,
this world fell, from god’s dripping tongue
here it is a beautiful earth where we dance and
our legs have known the same marks

My cock is real and hard next to yours, my will
has crawled this hill
From my hands,
I made him, underneath my skin with the pine, laying on soil and roots
its needles under my steps in memories fog
of bare feet, New England’s woods in my nose

Touching rust, inside of this tender night
we still smoke fags, inside of these tender mouths,
the warm belly of the city loses its anger

In Queerness, boys lined with soft hair down their navel,
Where the heat is oppressive I swim towards the breath of four bodies scratched by carpet
kissing and crying with our shirts off,
my skin to the scars on his chest for the first time,
Adam made from woman.

In stillness, the sun sets saluting my filter of this world where my voice chases its journey
On this changing earth, our bodies have always been.

Let the winds be kind and the air be thick
when bullets run,
become a soft mist, rattling onto hollow metal
can we dance to this rhythm?