Queer History
Your first name is never forever.
Lovers misremember you, then
you misremember lovers, then
love becomes new names
weighing on your tongue.
A new tongue in the park
you love after midnight,
oak leaves shrouding trunks
your bare back holds on to
every name you answer to
until your last death.
That death asks no names.
But others with your names will
find their backs against
carved hearts and initials,
love softening the bark.
źródło: Read A Little Poetry
10.09.2026