This child is born of: flesh craving flesh sweat, skin, and summer a brief and distant romance set to the rhythm of incoming text messages ping it was only meant to be one night one moment that got snagged on the corner of hot summer sadness at 2:00 AM in the heart of Brooklyn a thread pulled loose that would never be needled back into place we were less soulmates than stars colliding less destiny than alchemy two heavy hearts in need of healing too proud to show anything more revealing than a naked body something in us had to be destroyed and so we used each other and the instigation of liquor and the dizziness of the dance floor to become undone and devoured for a while each other's little secret exploding from a tight, hidden corner of life an ultimate and unignorable love creeping in through the blinds with each shared sunrise bodies with bodies making bodies life is so fleshy, so full of blood a child born of: loss, lust, and loneliness honesty and curiosity of life's insatiable appetite for itself your body–round and taught–expands with the fullness of someone's longing for you how is this anything but a sensual experience? I am cells and molecules and entire organs larger now; there is more of me my sweet and unexpected love, you have made me more
Seated Nude Woman. (ca. 1915–1930) by Jacob Merkelbach
PUBLISHED October 19, 2023