août 7th, 2022 § 0 comments § permalink

Other people is other books
Not you, not your book
opened at the page where your cock is
a quarter of the beautiful poem

I am at the library, – I text you, –
sucking at the end of my pen
and the year inside of me is august chimes
the zero year

the calendar theme is not food
my worried routine of not starving
you barely know the feeling
when you eat because you have to

because you are a boy
stuffing things down my throat
because you are my boy

Lily Ruban

Where am I?

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