# #fear

4 poems

## [hinge](https://chromato.graphics/hinge)

door in our place i never open  
out of fear and too much want  
touch the knob — i am shocked

sounds like a party in there  
but where is my invitation?  
missing out doesn’t scare me

sometimes, it’s open a crack  
scents from the kitchen waft  
my favorite dish on the menu

i give up. nothing better to do  
splayed on gray wool, rubbing  
nothing matches their rhythm

the guests tire, it swings open  
streamers and confetti spilling  
must be my job to clean ’em up

## [food](https://chromato.graphics/food)

a girl’s gotta eat,  
grow big & strong  
food becomes fuel  
fired brick oven

i have reservations,  
my seat’s set aside  
gin martini stirred—  
small coin of lemon.

white pressed linens  
red leather cushions  
polished steel fixtures  
scarred marble veins

amuse my palate  
gift from the chef  
_we kindly request:_  
_no sharing allowed_

a girl’s gotta eat,  
wash away fears  
enjoy my choices  
wet lips, appetite

taste first with eyes  
each flavor distinct:  
salt, grit, acid, burn  
hungering for it all

the first bite builds  
anticipation of more—  
a mindless chewing,  
my posture softens

i lick your plate clean  
_it’s been taken care of_  
have i saved any room?  
no, some other time

## [mirror](https://chromato.graphics/mirror)

i’m sorry i bumped into you.  
i thought you were a mirror.  
your clear surface showed  
what they saw of me then.

parties are meant for diffusion,  
but we focused instead.  
twisting the lens to almost  
make out what was there.

i’m sorry i couldn’t touch you.  
i thought you were a mirror.  
i feared leaving greasy prints  
for everyone to see.

museums of mailboxes and phones  
reveal past and future connections.  
a present —  
behind smudged display glass.

i’m sorry you didn’t see me  
waving at you in the city.  
i thought you were a mirror.  
you weren’t yet waving back.

being gay is hard sometimes.  
hotel bathrooms get steamy,  
you can’t always get the right angle  
before the image blurs.

i’m sorry we were interrupted.  
i thought you were a mirror.  
i never dreamed anyone would  
walk through it and shatter the glass.

i need to move but i can’t sleep.  
some things aren’t done yet.  
i’m hiding from sunrise, from men,  
under blankets and cardboard towers.

i’m sorry i looked so long.  
i knew you were a mirror,  
but i couldn’t spot the vanishing point.  
some reflections distort; yours perfects.

## [poison](https://chromato.graphics/poison)

the black bottle kept  
just out of reach  
of those who fear  
my obsidian liquid

a toxicology report:  
deadly in large doses  
but taken with care  
the hurting heals us

sure, share a nightcap  
wince with me in pain  
we need this to sting  
no easier, knowing it

small sips are sweet  
deeper drinks, bitter  
stone fruit can’t mask  
a burning this intense

scared to let you see  
me like this — red eyes  
pierce pewter framing  
you want, no, need to

as the spirit fully hits  
there’s no stopping this  
            _drink._  
the cork is broken now