I asked, gently, for him to put the needle
Near my skin. A stranger. Nameless face
With beautiful lips and broad shoulders
That could potentially hold ships. Beautiful
Stranger, that is what we will name him.
That is what I have
Named him — beautiful
Stranger with tulip ears
& a rolling tongue
That speaks gibberish
When moving. I know
Nothing but this:
He touched me, yet
It isn’t love. It wasn’t.
It could be. It cannot.
His lips kiss my neck,
He says Speak truths
& I say oxalis, rose,
Dove, death,
collapsing veins &
So on. I don’t know
Much, but this I do:
I have felt hell. It’s name
— Gentle Stranger.
Anthony Aguero is a queer writer in Los Angeles, CA. His work has appeared, or will appear, in the Carve Magazine, Rhino Poetry, Cathexis Northwest Press, 14 Poems, Redivider Journal, Maudlin House, and others. Instagram & Twitter: shesnotinsorry.