How I long for the day when a simple

boy might love me. Not asking

for more. No seas, no stars,

crevasses or treasure. A scallywag smile

 

surprising me at the corner café.

I’m quite aware, thanks, that too much

literature’s ruined me. I live in a swirling sea

of illusions. I’m closer to the moon

 

than I am to his eyes. But dear Lord,

have mercy on me. Could I just roll

over in bed one day and bump up against

his neck, or even a big toe

 

– the loneliest toe of all? Not asking for

some fantasy-forever boy, no… My choice.

Just the boom-crash-flash of his voice

you know, chatting any old shit on the phone.