T50. Heavy chested again I need a lie down. The sun rings come down over my eyes in white light and I swing them from my hips like hoola hoops. I dreamt I was scraping my teeth together until I could spit out the shards. I turned the waves and looked out on the all-encompassing, oh-so-distant earth. The August love is unattainable. Sun´s burnt too gold and now my world´s sat in the shadow of a fire. Everyone goes about their own routine with closed eyes and equal presence and I can't stop watching. I dread when I start to notice someone. Sucker for love and circus. Let me turn you to honey- Consuming your affections in degustation. Aching to eat him to the marrow. Now my hand flicks the blade that carved the walls of childhood bed scenes. I'm sitting on summer´s edging with pant legs pulled from my feet, wading, with heaven will wait. Lay flat afloat the water. Headstrong- some love-sick kid. Innately human to not be a holy one. You cut a clementine with my pocket knife. And I´m cutting knuckles for bodily metamorphosis.
Lev Verlaine is a trans poet based in Washington state. His works have appeared in Querencia Press and Verge Journa. He can be found on instagram @/ casua1haunt and tumblr @/ mutualantagonism