I taste wildfire on his mouth He tells me to meet him at his house
Night air can muddle the brain better than gin I pace his gravel patio
over discarded gum mosaics We all wait to be wanted again
Small belts of stars circle above like pallbearers readied The yard frenzies
with hemlock tufts His screen door creaks open There is a bed sheets
soft as angora I do not recall if I asked for that drink He pulls yesses
from my lips says that Theta girl touched him first Some people think
they have a right to anything they name He calls me darling The word pens
black across my nape seeps into flesh I take the wildfire into my mouth
His hands become spiders the kind that swallow any bird small enough to hold
His grip is an omen of insides stained red Of course I break away from his heat
Of course I run through gravel hard as molars nameless and scorched
waiting on the stars to finish their task
Matthew Early is a poet from Columbus, Ohio. He holds a BA from Muskingum University, and is currently pursuing his MFA in creative writing at Butler University. He has won several literary contests, including the 2018 Beulah Brooks Brown Award in Poetry, run by the Academy of American Poets. His work can be found or is forthcoming in Whiskey Island Magazine, The Flying Island, Barren Magazine, Ghost City Press, and others.