Sitting next to you feels like sex,
like something poking at the raw wound
of my body. It doesn't feel
like a cup overflowing or like an ending.
It feels like the world completing its rotation
another time, quiet and meaningless,
only meaningful
if we say so, if we feel the weight
in our wanting flesh.
YOU ARE READING
These People and I
PoesíaThis year for National Poetry Writing Month, I want to challenge myself by mostly writing about people I wouldn't normally write about. This could include people from my past, present, or even future. I'll be adding a new poem by midnight each day i...
