# #glass

4 poems

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

craving total transformation,  
identity a disposed wrapper.  
becoming a vessel for want,  
glass poured into, overfilled.

you haven’t been here lately.  
something in our combining  
always begins this reaction:  
photochemical excited state

learning how to spark again —  
days ago: gel, pumps, bulbs,  
rattling pill bottles and nerves,  
black gloves, gold foil, silicone.

it’s warmed up enough already.  
don’t ask or guess — just _know_.  
take a part you claim as yours,  
shape it to your pleasure. use.

time stutters; the gears grind  
forward under prying pressure.  
repairing hidden mechanisms,  
counting every beat yourself.

disappearing deconstruction:  
ripped apart by heat and light,  
shredded into a thousand tiny  
pieces of steel. shrapnel blast.

there is stillness in oblivion,  
peace made in the darkness.  
clenched fists, soaked linen.  
i swear. i won’t move. i can’t.

## [AS 21](https://chromato.graphics/as21)

if you’re hearing this,  
it’s ’cause i trust you.  
there’s a lot of detail,  
high resolution scans.

i take an early flight.  
nothing good is easy.  
_what am i forgetting?_  
chocolate orange peels.

i program on the airplane  
to distract from humming  
in my eardrums; an engine  
whirring to life in my chest.

she applies the night before  
risks her body just for more.  
she knows she has to see it  
before i remember my face.

jetway’s made of glass,  
eyes have steel blades.  
_what am i forgetting?_  
54-inch red shoelace.

_“do you want to get the_  
_fuck out of this airport?”_  
she picks up both bags  
before i can say a word.

she borrows a tapedeck.  
i hold her knee. _is this ok?_  
the postal service can’t  
ship this in a flat rate box.

distance desires ritual  
we find a matchbook  
_what am i forgetting?_  
ashen coffee. burning.

the next thing i know  
we’re at the terminal.  
lipstick can stain more  
than cardboard cups

**time stopped in total:**  
14 hours, 28 minutes

## [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.

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

winter cherry, lush  
pressed to the pane :  
clear swirling glass,  
vessels for grapes

red print attracts  
gazes from gays  
strange artifacts  
mouths go astray

first contact lasts  
longer than stains  
washed away fast —  
much like our brains

they always say  
lips that disguise  
can’t be the way,  
but never the why

shouldn’t we just  
paint what we feel  
even if lips must  
become the meal