A camera is what makes it porn right? I google as everyone
in the reception area wonders what husband is waiting for his wife.
Between my legs is a national treasure or at least what gives
republicans wet dreams during seasons of political theatre in Texas. Can I carry
that energy into a pose that reads digital exchange of chemistry? The tiny
bathroom mirror says yes. My lover opens the text as some other kind of camera
enters the canal that never wanted this. The same way republicans
never want their donors to think they care about trans people. If I blur
the silhouette, is it still considered erotica? I think so,
said the nurse answering a separate question about my womb. If cameras
create the crime then I declare my pants untenable by white people
unless they’re doing routine checkups in a doctor’s office. At least here,
the lobby thinks I’m offering moral support. And in a way, tea and a backrub
says everything okay just as much as my lover, eyes spangled
when I show her what Dan Patrick hates.
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KB is a Black queer nonbinary miracle. They are the author of the chapbook HOW TO IDENTIFY YOURSELF WITH A WOUND (Kallisto Gaia Press, 2022), winner of the 2020 Saguaro Poetry Prize.
Photo by Ben Iwara.
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