I think of all the ways in which it
could devour me.
Is it okay if I touch you, he asks.
I am discovering how to be
naked. Sometimes the air gets lighter,
other days I just pretend
skin cannot hurt me anymore.
Outside his bedroom, bridges
bulge over water. Our bodies approach.
In the time it took him to undress,
planets danced and lives
were changed. I watched his collarbones
emerge, my breath awakening.
Outside these walls,
crowds speak loudly in other languages.
He teaches me to whisper in his tongue,
words that grow within me now
like a moon that orbits more patiently.
Afterwards we keep talking.
He says he’s transforming his brain but
this takes hours. He could be my own
astronomical clock, hands
moving so gently, languidly drinking
me. Luckily there is no rush.
Luís Costa (he/they) is the author of two dying lovers holding a cat (fourteen publishing, 2023). His poems have been published in Queerlings, Stone of Madness, Roi Fainéant, Visual Verse, Anthropocene, Fahmidan, the anthology He/She/They/Us (Macmillan, 2024), and elsewhere. Luís is one of the founding editors of the poetry magazine Seaford Review. He holds a PhD from Goldsmiths, lives in London, but you can find him on social media @captainiberia.