the lovers i share, the lovers i keep
pleasure knows the names of my lovers
delicately carving loyalty into each fingers,
bones and all, assigned and carried, into desire
cupid, all but a servant, to kneel before
caffeine infused romance, shaking bitterly
at the prospects of a forever we won't keep
even if she blooms, even if she knows the truth
of reincarnated love, until it withers like crop
drink from the river sweet, legs resting on the shoreline
beaded sweat, pulsing ribcages flying loud
heartswelling and sprouting into lungspit soil
tell you your name, but never louder than a whisper
pleasure, carrier pigeon of fantasy, breed chaos
breed the youth of a thousand budding desires and loves
until freckled with sun-exhaustion and weep
until every lover has touched a hundred times or more
By Theo Bee
Biography:
Theo Bee (he/they) is a trans, queer, and disabled writer and artist from Nebraska living in New Jersey. His work can be seen in Another Chicago Magazine, The Bitchin' Kitsch, and Stone of Madness Press. You can find them on Twitter and Instagram @theobeecreates.
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