Literature
boys i met at parties
1.) on the first day of autumn,
he rolled a joint at my kitchen table
and told me he loved me;
said my face was his drug
as he puffed and i grew hazier,
unable to tell if he was getting
more handsome through the smoke
or if i was blinded by it and
only hearing his words.
when i think back now, i hear
his flattery in your voice;
i see your throat rippling
as he tells me that if he could
grind me up in $16 paper,
he’d drop the filter and let me
take him all the way down, down.
2.) a week into the rain,
he smiled like he was meeting
an old childhood friend.
i had known him a week.
he did not read our books
or watch our movies, but
he wa