Issue #54


Authors

Private God

Light careens through the gossamer

canopy above my bed. Billowing smoke

curls to meet the light, fresh from my lover’s

mouth. Slow-rolling heartbeat,

thick on my brow, in my neck, reminding

me of how temporary this could be. My eyes

shut. Inside darkness the world shifts,

even the red of my eyelids threatens

to swallow me whole. Can this be real?

Light shines down onto the hairs of my arm,

and warm hands brush against them. Eyes open

again, I trace the shape of her lips. I read this

somewhere when I was in high school. In a back

corner of a library. Scouring pages for someone

who looked like me. Shame, my own private God,

cooling the sweat of my shaking hands. She moves,

and  her hair spills out against my pillow.

Her pillow. I reach out to touch it.

Light eyes, so much like a forest midday,

look at me like they have known me all

of their lives. I’ve walked through those

woods a thousand times, but some days

the shadows grow long and I’m alone

again. I know how to make myself smaller

and how to disappear into another self. Still,

this sunburn of intimacy, grace melting against

my skin, makes me feel that for the first time

I won’t be asked to unmake myself.

in this moment, we are climbing

Exhalation