my boyfriend was generous

with his body. he gave everything

to the church— 

his sweat made holy.

we met in queer eden,

adam4adam4adam4adam.

the garden, flowered by a string 

of gloryholes, anonymous cocks 

popped up every time

i opened a window. 

he adored the camera, 

knew the secret to a good selfie.

he flooded my DMs with pics

of his booty, thick 

legs, striped underwear 

transformed my mouth

into las vegas desert.

when he signed only you.

kiss, heart, kiss, heart, kiss—

i believed.

truth or dare or truth.

how can i trust his skin

isn’t a series of books

lining another man’s library? 

when i close my eyes i see

a screenshot of him

naked, hung 

in someone else’s gallery.

-------------------------------------

Michael Russell (he/they) is the author of chapbook Grindr Opera (Frog Hollow Press). He’s queer, has BPD, Bipolar Disorder and way too much anxiety. Their work has appeared in Arc Poetry Magazine, Contemporary Verse 2, SICK Magazine among other places. He lives in Toronto and thinks you’re fantabulous. Insta: @michael.russell.poet