chromatographics

gay poems by mb bischoff

just use mine

he’s wanted one, i think, a while still growing his, it takes its time i wonder: why not just use mine?

our parts are modular by design they’re aftermarket optimized hot-swappable and still divine

then i’m above and he’s below press into him, extend a loan tell him: touch, like it’s your own

he strokes it like a precious gift he must be worried, he’ll miss it the gratitude vibrates his wrist

he shakes as need remaps the mind and both our systems intertwine we once mistake his flesh for mine

i ask him softly if it was good he nods like i rewound the world we had made what no one could

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