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They, Them

He ordered a pizza before I arrived, perfectly timed. sweaty embraces topped with steamed vegetables and molten cheese.

Black layered black, fifties doo wop singer meets queer priest in subversive choir.

He buys top dollar booze but never tastes it because the bottle looks better unopened. Scoffs at whimsy but shows me his Garfield collection.

She honors history through 2 dollar re-purposed pins looks like a pin up but would rather pin me.

Ropes and knots are not enough to keep her. More sensation in one conversation than all the rabbit fur-metal spike combos.

Eyes worn like the beloved book shoved into the same pants pocket so many times the corners broke to form a permanent holster.

But he never bought books used. Devoured all the words but left the pages clean with saliva.

And her voice constantly echoing “oh, Fascinating” every time I come up against a question that stumps.

Giggle tipped your chin down, eyes up, little pup with a grade-A cut of meat.

She burst into fits of orgasmic giggles. Each laugh convulsing harder and louder until my childhood stories rendered her fully satisfied jello.

He sang and it broke me. A voice I never wanted to own, not given, but tasted. It was offered in simplicity never fearing I would drown in coconut beard oil.