# #new york 7 poems ## [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. ## [incision](https://chromato.graphics/incision) half decade wishes: a leveling out. forbidden kisses the right choice, no doubt central park consult king cole martini review old results discard bikinis photograph the curves archives in high gloss the things i preserve, they’ll surely just toss day before phone calls rage at the system its stops, starts, & stalls need to assist him sleep, holding a heart cleanse every surface wrong name on the chart _of course you deserve this_ wave as the doors close _don’t use the “b” word_ eat eggs as you doze the artwork looks blurred a husband’s phone rings let me inside there treat you like a king hold cups as your care bumpy ride that night late rooftop phone call two beams of bright light never forget fall a week goes by fast managing your pain see yourself at last straight scars and no drain i cry more than you do it hits me deeply this thing that you choose didn’t come cheaply a body transformed like overnight oats years since your plans formed i’ll keep taking notes ## [ftl](https://chromato.graphics/ftl) random chance meeting sweater that shimmers parties are fleeting your glances glimmer post selfies in slack our dms vanish a coffee date ask making a plan-ish? calls about lost work texts about gender watching your lil’ smirk my heart grows tender shopping for red skirts sharing a small lunch enjoying my quirks i’m having a hunch… flirting a little to see if it sticks too noncommittal? or does it just click late night at a show we let our legs brush at the bar i chose you admit your crush a ride to your place the tension growing sharing a small space finally knowing nervously waiting for you to arrive _fuck, now we’re dating._ we instantly vibe ## [just use mine](https://chromato.graphics/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 ## [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 ## [atlantic
  pacific](https://chromato.graphics/atlantic-pacific) i often wake three hours before your sunrise calls for a response logbook already soaked with ink we laugh, but even if we could, _why constrain our outporings?_ one winter day you ask for notes on undersea strings aware of both the timbre and tempo of these songs we start singing together i fall into an evening rhythm talking and yes moaning into the phonograph, my head then swallowed by the brassy cone our voices sound better inside when you open your ears again there’s so much weather to hear : wind and rain and quiet calm that lasts too long and means too much we keep sailing even without a map true, land divides us more than sea, but these two coasts call to us both maybe it’s the sirens or the sounds of wavecrash against the shore — the dangers of unfathomed depths