queer-with-a-pen

two spoons, please

time smiles upon me,

an after breakfast dessert delivered

with two spoons,

and that twinkle in your eye

 

comfortably nestled in this

moment of intimacy and what

promises to be an eventual domesticity

 

and i want to hold your hand so badly,

maybe brush our ankles together in

what could arguably be an accidental way,

lean a little more into you

 

i just want to see you smile,

again and again,

and it’s all the better if i’m the reason

behind that twinkle and flash of teeth

 

and i think then of a warm,

well-lit kitchen that we would share,

mugs, spoons, plates, bowls all lined

up where they should be,

side by side, just like us

 

the foundation for this life

we have the time,

the time we are careful to take,

to cultivate is something beautiful

that humbles me to behold