“m(y)o(ceanic)s(elf)a(nd)i(ts)c(urrents)” by Eric Cline
i straddled the edges of island
blackened with age and urchins.
years later gray carpet bore
witness to death without sound.
when i was a child, my friend and i
picked flowers for our teacher.
i once pressed petals to page
and tried to paint the look of not-life.
i want to die perfectly complete,
a hollow bloom in amber.
the first boy i ever felt for
called me a faggot. everything
dips its toes, wades, then departs.
Eric Cline is a queer writer currently living in Dumfries, VA. They are the author of the poetry chapbooks his strange boy eve (Yellow Chair Press, 2016) and something further across the ocean (Throwback Books, 2017). They tweet @EricClinePoet.