Image for post
Image for post

As I lie


in thin sheets

peppered with faint flowers, red

blue, magenta, small specks of yellow

knowing she looms behind me

wishing to touch but why is it

I can’t reach back?

How far is she, sitting, head posed

secured in the reassuring crook

of her curled fingers, a weak constructed fist.

And the sunlight splayed across my torso

But I turn away with a folded chest

and my arms snuggled in a cozy embrace

into my bosom.

“Dearest Benji,” she sighs. “Where else

can I go?”

Born and raised in CA. Film, literature, music, poetry, mostly gay/queer/GSM topics. Stick around if I haven’t bored you yet.

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