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Finding People Near You
by John LaPine Carter 18 Looking for dates or friends or right now or fun. Be my daddy. Stroke my salmon legs. Comb my hair until bluish eels blush purple. You are wood and I am samurai sword, wedging apart your rigid cell walls, or I'm on your fingertips like tacky glue, or I am blackened unagi on your lips. Or I'm Vaseline, greasy jar in mom’s bedside drawer, and you are petroleum carpet stain by her radiator. Or we are molten rings bubbling up magma through your ocean floor, eroded, weathered, atmospheres of wet pressure, where sunlight cannot penetrate, where the fish don't need eyes, where we can let our sight fail us and trust in our unseeing until we're dredged up, petrified solid Jacob 23 Handsome, muscular, down to earth, tattooed back, no Asians or blacks because I know you’re all the same, reptilian or apeish, or primeval, primordial, covered in muck, lungless salamanders, egg-laying and venomous platypi, just like my brother used to say, yes, you’re just like my brother told me you'd be, mercurial. You’ll push my throne, grab fistfuls of facial hair. You’ll box my ears and tear out canine teeth like dusty dandelion roots until you are a lone belay on sunbeat crag, with bloody knees from banging rock, bloody hands from holding rope, from clutching at sandstone. When's the last time you screamed at the top of your lungs? When's the last time you ran for your life? Adam 27 Discreet, masculine country guy who loves the outdoors. Let's grab a beer and see where this goes, wrap ourselves canvas silly, catch each other’s breaths, lift like noble gasses, but somehow less reactive, let’s grab another beer—see where this goes. Let's boil river water for coffee and catch fish in the morning, and I'll teach you to hold this knife—no, not like that, like this, there you go—and if you let me touch your brown diamond—if you teach me how to hold that too—we’ll see where this goes, and I'll let you taste whatever you’d like, and let you say “beautiful,” let you use that word, let you approach it like two arms of galaxy dust, sinew tensing across lightyears orbiting the same black hole until we both fail to collide, to collect into stars, to coalesce into something less meaningful. |
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