Originally published in The Evergreen Review Issue 110 in 2005.
what about that day your gums began to bleed? did you ask me any questions about that? did you feel the motion sickness I felt? did you really feel alone here, among all these streetcars?
and what, if anything, is the significance, of a boy who falls all over himself, dreaming short, cut, hearts; dreaming of the other boys with out even noticing the tear-patterns that separate them?
it seems your mouth is not full of lipstick, so it seems.
it seems your skin is impossible to take care of: it’s so very old.
the answer to any questions put should be felt out in a dark, sticky room.
without liquids and without idols being made of either one of us.