Men On Gay Apps – A Poem

Latest posts by Jamal Gerald (see all)

The charms on

your back,

freckles, fallen men.

I wonder if they

learned to lie

from your bed.

 

Shared the solar system,

Our cherished chemistry,

from your ceiling.

The orchestra conducted

by sun and

earthbound strokes, advantages

on skin.

 

I chief your

Fancy.

The Arian stubble

I told to go slow

inhaling me.

Oblige the flavour

you gave,

I am special,

Rich.

Throats fresh from

tears.

 

Our desirous

blood cells tremble,

Shed bliss.

Punching the walls.

We bond.

We are gods.

Make the voodoo tribes dance.

The courageous lips drive.

Contrasting bodies touch,

In the tingle

you created.

 

You twist my

complexion, tone

controlled

by your malicious

intensions.

 

We interlace

like friendly germs,

see each other in altered ways,

like the end of a war,

have each other in altered ways.

Your warmth creates

anguish.

 

Gullible victim,

pleased to

be a successor,

to the charms

that have fallen

before me.