a poem by Levi Cain

i.

i swear the lilt of your hazy/cackle, heard through the wall/is like an alleluia/tell me/wasn’t that last night/so much like moses parting the red sea/wasn’t it so much/like a miracle/the way you curled to me/as a comma/so naturally/wasn’t it so much/like a miracle/that i could place a hand on your hip/as a staff/and command you/open

ii.

an argument i once read about us/queers/is that we have been shunted into newness/that we did not exist/before the white men/came/tell me/what place they have/ever had here/what space could they have/when you fill up/the entire room with the joy/of being spread/what matter is there left/to colonize/when i am buried/in you/lip-deep/drinking as gratefully from you/as an oasis/as surely pilgrims as brown as us/drank from elim/eons ago

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