“Blood Oranges” and “the sugar of knowing”

Blood Oranges

The moon is gorgeous tonight, full
of necromancers and dead poets,

their blood, bones hung wet
as laundry, strung dark, starless

meaningless as moon charts
shredded into rituals, spells.

I take a blood orange, place it
between the moon and the telescope

of my eye, study it—
dimpled with cellulite,

wrinkled with enough rot
to border the cavity of sugar, decay.

It glitters like a skull
blanched in the blood cider of breath,

squishable, it dances,
the candle hook of a flame.

I could squeeze it, bleed it dry,
let the juices run like bloodied soldiers

down my wrist, ask the blood
if it wanted this?

Look it straight
in its bloodshot eye and decry

if it wasn’t at the wrong place
at the wrong time then things

could’ve been different.
When I told my ex about my rapist,

the first thing he asked was why
I didn’t report it. Closeted,

I flirted with a stranger on a sex site,
traveled downtown after midnight,

met him in a rundown alley
behind his apartment, then went upstairs.

He said I must have wanted
to be maimed, mauled, cleaved

like a blood orange on a white sheet.
In Wanting to Die, Anne Sexton wrote

something like—suicides possess

a special language. They calm
the body, strip it of gravity,

worry, the stress of memory,
peel back the skin, crack open

the jewel of the chest
until all that’s left is blood, pulp, pith.

the sugar of knowing

who am i to mourn
the dream? ghost rare
& holographic         glittering
like a Pokémon card

am i ungrateful?

wandering the gay club
of my mind with phone
unlocked         Grindr installed
& gaping
like a nameless ass
perked in the air        this morning

i thought my boyfriend’s penis
might be my last         the final
flavour       his sweat
branding my tongue like a trademark

never another

thick as a beer can or short
& stubby as a couple
fat fingers       forever       his penis

might be my penis
swan song       curtain call      series
finale & reboot       elegy      the last
to fill me       the sting
of everyday

when he asks what i want

i tell him to tie me up
& spread me out like Staryu

to tuck his body under mine
so we can evolve       Starmie

jeweled ocean creature
swimming its way back

home       oh! the sugar
of knowing we can & will

fuck in every position

share our strangest kinks
then cuddle       the slow exhale
goodnight