after watching Moonlight (2016)
in my veins was not blood
rushing, but something wilder.
I became uncharted ground. my landscape made oceanic,
the vastness swelling inside me. if the question is
of whom I have become, I offer
the syntax of my want as an answer. my lips
part to speak and there is only a roaring—seafoam against
spire of grey rock, these other holy collisions.
sometimes, I dream of proximity: our bodies, the wind
combing through my hair, guiding your fingers.
I cover you in my sweat; we can’t tell who is in control.
I spend most nights searching for
an unannounced hunger. imagine me scraping at the thin veil
of this teal midnight, hungry & running, my skin shimmering.
I leave myself. I return, threadbare; gnawed at until I was made perfect.
there is no mistaking what I let inside me
for anything gentle. imagine what perfection requires.
imagine the landscape burning. there is no denying what hands
are capable of. if this were a movie, would I have already died
in your arms?
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