queer-with-a-pen

follow you anywhere

up before the sun,
walking under the softening
glow of a dotted moon,
already light down on the
street, yet still dark where the
light pollution can’t reach

and i want to be there,
almost desperately,
let’s go back to that spot
near the powerlines and
gravel roads, feel that
buzz in your molars

there’s a crackle in the air,
and we’re not far enough away
from the rest of it to find those
wild horses just yet,
but the bird call and chatter is
a damn good substitute

and i want to take a snapshot of you,
silhouetted by splash of sunrise
across the sky, something to keep
in the pocket of my jeans like a
polaroid, creased from running my
thumb across the surface