cross-legged queer
you make the margins pretty
black dotted eyes
the sound of your oxygenated voice
all for stars
we know you
but your brother is love
and we love him most of all
call us home
we don’t fly
you are signs
we don’t read
no, this is all of the world
all for you
that we leave without words
sad to say
you will never be
right with us
but that is life
and you know
all cannot be right all the time
we won’t protect you
only know you
What more can be asked?