Turnstiles, in my mind
all energy,
baby
claims of broken baggage
desires hampered by memories
easing floods of
foreseeable futures
godly mazes of the mind: untouched by the
haze that turns skin
inside out
just in me: what do you see?
kissing, then
lowering
me down
next to you
ode to the
persistence of
queerness
reaching
silently
towards
us:
veiled,
we are a mud-pie of serenity and severity.
bleak cold, jubilant spring.
convinced as an enemy,
roped in as a lover.
vanity imprinted upon your neck like an
X
until
you are no longer your body
or
until you insist upon removal.
went in with two
came out as one.
police vans enter the
zone – our ice cream truck.
Azure Brandi graduated from NYU’s Tisch in 2023. Previous work in New Croton Review, October Hill Magazine, Virgo Venus Press, and SORTES Magazine. Forthcoming publications in The Underground, Alien Buddha Zine, Bending Genres Journal, Stick Figure Poetry, Flapper Press, Basset Hound Press, Brevi Mag, Thirty West Publishing’s Afterimages, and Vol. 1 Brooklyn.
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