a poem about a person
He is usually upstairs sleeping
on my roommate's bed
when I go looking for him
I take him under one arm and bring him into my room
I feed him
He is confused and stares at the bowl before he begins to eat
That’s when I close the door
J is already on my bed, adjusting my ipod. Something 70s and Brazilian starts playing
When I am on top and feeling everything—one hand on J’s shoulder, the other against the wall
I turn my body
My brown eyes meet his
Big and yellow and glowing in the dark
I take him under one arm and bring him into my room
I feed him
He is confused and stares at the bowl before he begins to eat
That’s when I close the door
J is already on my bed, adjusting my ipod. Something 70s and Brazilian starts playing
When I am on top and feeling everything—one hand on J’s shoulder, the other against the wall
I turn my body
My brown eyes meet his
Big and yellow and glowing in the dark
