nothing serious

Poetry

the embers in your touch

don’t leave any marks on my throat.

we are cigarettes with

clearly labeled warnings —

more honesty here than

in the Forever of commitment.

we know: statues on pedestals

don’t smolder like this.

best to take a long drag,

fill each other’s lungs —

each other’s blood —

let it burn for a bit,

then flick the ashes away.

--

--

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store
Michael Guevarra

Bay Area writer, sociologist, and feral poet // editor of The Anticapital