I move too close to myself each morning.

 

My hands have grown rough
& then soft again.

 

The itch of my back has moved from where it was to somewhere else,
writhing in the night like a shadow’s call.

 

I’m in the eternal summer of wanting.

The middle of my chest cracks and turns blue.
The body is unwelding, & makes known its real power.

 

Look at my smile.
Teeth bleached white on a Sunday.

 

Some terrible illusion, Time: wittingly corrupt.

 

I bruise the melons, on purpose.
Eat the grapes.

 

I sit back & call on the future like an old friend.

---

travis tate is a queer, black playwright, poet and performer from Austin, Texas. Their poetry has appeared in Borderlands:Texas Poetry Review, Underblong, Mr. Ma’am, apt, and Cosmonaut Avenue among other journals. Their debut poetry collection, MAIDEN, is published on Vegetarian Alcoholic Press. They earned an MFA from the Michener Center for Writers. You can find more about them at travisltate.com.