Homosexuality
       

Desire, I drape over my chest
so you know what flag I bear,
what nation I want to land on
when the rescue workers
& newscasters have pulled me
from the dark, allowing me to
rinse my foliate feathers, shed
my oily skin—& with wings
steeped in fire, they won't be able
to look at me—the light would burn
pinholes in their pupils—
& what they will ask as they kneel
is How long does the bridge run
in your heart, how deliberately
dark is the birdcage. I will give them
an answer & after they've kissed
my feet, I will give them a pair
of sunglasses, so when I sit down
to eat they'll be able to see clear
through my throat to the window
behind it & wait their turn to
bring a knife & fork to the table.

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Copyright © 2022 Tory Adkisson All rights reserved
from The Flesh Between Us
Southern Illinois University Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission