loverboy breaks up with his girlfriend through a mouth full of fire.
loverboy is a mystery she can't quite figure out and through a carton of cookie dough ice cream she tells her best friend it came out of nowhere. girlfriend, ex girlfriend, can't possibly see what he's been working so hard to hide.
child of flowers, chrysanthemums and daisies and tulips, engulfs loverboy like he's the fucking fiji water the dehydrated child of flowers has been fantasizing about. loverboy hugs back like he's sliding off the expectations of a whole damn country.
loverboy is completely consumed in the feelings he has for child of flowers, for this boy with a sunflower smile, feelings that come crashing down like a tsunami. the two of them escape to the city for the day, and among the urban backdrop, no one blinks at the two boys with fingers lost inside palms. nikes press against blackened gum stains, converses hop over subway grates, the two of them in a sync that logic doesn't get. so fuck it. fuck science and fuck what's natural cause loverboy can't help but feel that there's nothing more natural than the way his boyfriend moves against him when they're twisted in cotton bed sheets. what the hell does some wrinkled up sexless prick know about love, he'll ask child of flowers.
child of flowers will pull him into the alcove out front of a cupcake shops with a rainbow flag hanging in the window, and kiss him like the way the forrest smells after it's just rained. because religion doesn't know love and no fucking line written by a bored monk a million years before has any control over this, he tells loverboy.
and so they incinerate. pressing bud into bowls cause when you're high you don't have to think about how dad is going to throw you out of the house when he sees how in love you are with with a boy. child of flowers wraps his gold painted nails around the neck of the shitty asian beer loverboy's been choking down. you're gonna get alcohol poisoning babe, he says. good, loverboy thinks.
and loverboy is standing on a bridge watching the water twist and curve against the storm and thinking of jumping. and maybe this is just a shitty metaphor and maybe his town has no bridges but the pull is there and maybe there's some peace in not feeling anything at all. death will be his home when his father draws the blinds on him. there's a comfort in that, of finally finding a home that won't grind him into the pavement.
but then he looks at his baby, this child of flowers, and he doesn't believe in an after life doesn't believe in anything but the absence of anything, but hell, he's going to miss his love. he never used to believe in love cause strawberry lip balm burned his chapped lips like acid dripping in his lungs. but none of that makes sense cause he's found home in the cracks of child of flowers' lips, and there's forever lining in their kisses. child of flowers says, baby, you've burrowed beneath my skin and i have you flowing through my veins. you're my home, says loverboy back and the two of them collapse within each other.
and loverboy thinks maybe it will all be alright.
hi i'm actually proud of all of this except the ending lol but yeah!!!! watch me switch it up from sapphic poetry to gay man poetry lmao.
