Rainbow Sherbet Skies
An imitation poem inspired by the poem "Royal" from Joshua Burton's poetry collection, Grace Engine.
BEFORE LONG, DEAREST…WE WILL BE FREE TO LIVE OUR LIVES IN OUR OWN
WAY—FREE TO LOVE EACH OTHER AWAY FROM THE PEOPLE WHO CAN’T
UNDERSTAND. WE WILL GO SOMEWHERE WHERE THEY CAN NEVER AGAIN TAKE
FROM US OUR RIGHT TO LIVE. SOMEWHERE THERE IS SUCH A PLACE, I’M SURE.
IN THE VOICE OF LILYAN BROCK FROM QUEER PATTERNS
EVERY DAY I SLIP MY FINGERS INTO
SILVER-COATED HOOPS OF COPPER—MY FINGERS STAINED A
SEAWEED GREEN AT THE BASE MY JEAN SHORTS AN
INCH ABOVE MY KNEES WITH A BUTTON-UP SHORT
SLEEVE TO COMPLIMENT THE TANK TOP SHOWCASING A
SLIVER OF SKIN—A TANK TOP THAT FLATTENS MY BREASTS I SLIDE MY FEET ENCASED BY ANKLE SOCKS INTO VANS IN HOPES
THAT SOME DAY—ONE DAY—SHE’LL SEE MY CHOCOLATE SWIRL
CURLS MY DIPPIN’ DOTS FRECKLES SHE’LL LOOK AND
UNDERSTAND AND SHE’LL SAY “I SEE YOU, YOUR GOLD FRAMES AND AUTUMN EYES”
WITH HER ALTO VOICE AND SUN-KISSED SKIN AND OUR FINGERS WILL LACE TOGETHER—OUR CHEEKS THE COLOR OF PEONIES—AND—
BUT THE WORLD DOES NOT LIKE PRETTY GIRLS IN LOVE
LAST YEAR A GROUP OF MEN APPROACHED ME AND MY FRIENDS
ONE SAID, “EXCUSE ME, CAN WE RECORD YOU KISSING FOR OUR FRAT?”
THE GROUP OF MEN STOOD EAGERLY ON THE CURB
EYES ALIGHT WITH FLAMES OF HELL MOUTHS SMIRKING AND
SANDPAPER HANDS RUBBING TOGETHER IT TAKES SECONDS
TO ANSWER—FUCK YOU—I AM NOT YOUR TV SHOW I DO NOT HAVE STRINGS THAT CAN WRAP AROUND YOUR FINGERS BUT THEIR FEET STOMPED ON THE GROUND—PLEASE—THE ICE-CUBE LETTERS PELT MY SKIN—PLEASE IT’LL BE HOT—MY FEET CARRY ME AWAY BEFORE
MY FISTS COLLIDE WITH THEIR JAWS
A FEW MONTHS AGO MY BEST FRIEND SENT A VIDEO OF
HER BOYFRIEND—IN HYSTERICS—OVER THE IDEA OF
US LIVING TOGETHER HE SAID HE WAS SCARED
SCARED HE SAYS! OF WHAT?
SCARED THAT I WILL DO SOMETHING TO HER
HER LAUGH LOUD AND SHARP ECHOES IN MY SKULL—MY PHONE SUDDENLY A BRICK IN MY HAND—AND IT BECOMES CLEAR
THAT MY EXISTENCE WILL FOREVER EXIST TO
FEAR AND TO PLEASE—DISGUST AND EXCITE—EVERYONE
IN A WORLD WHERE ALL I WANT IS FOR HER AND HER SUN-KISSED SKIN TO HOLD ME CLOSE AND TELL ME IT’S ALL RIGHT WHILE
IT’S JUST US—ONLY US—AND OUR FLUTTERING
HEARTS BEATING A SONG’S RHYTHM
JUST US AGAINST THE WORLD
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