after paige lewis i like the way your teeth clack. is that weird? i like your conspicuous color. i like how your back bends. i prefer your voice cracks to the way others can belt. it’s always been this way. nothing explainable about it. they don’t understand how we’ve survived so long on such an illogical system. train to see love as categories of traits. hierarchy of desirability. what foolish research. don’t they know we evolve curiously? with every beat of wing we invent new genres of beauty. some songs will be passed on & some won’t ever be named. when i kiss you in the forest, it could always mean goodbye. it’s just that, so far, i’ve been deciding against it every time. haven’t had enough of your feathery chest yet. haven’t had the chance to name all of our dance moves.
Sal is a professional sluggard and occasional writer. Their work has been published in Canvas Literary Journal, The Rappahannock Review, and Yes Poetry, among others. They spend most of their free time sleeping and rewatching Bo Burnham specials.
