When I say love, I say maybe
& body & mind & smile.
I say hands & laugh & rounded mouths.
When I think want, I think
wrists & factual curves & omitted
corners.
I don’t count the ways, but I sigh your name.
There is a bridge between us I want to cross.
A decathlon for the blessed—I’d do most anything
for a little more skin.
To land fist-first like a heroine in the pocket of your impressions.
To weave a veil from each seize that protrudes from lung & hands & bitten down lips.
To admire the tenacity of skin & break down the skeptic’s touch.
It’s your face & pleasure & divine. There is no formula
to love like they teach children in storybooks.
There isn’t one
want or spell or
body to define
it.
Until it makes sense for us,
there are stone steps worth the trouble.
At the end of the bridge,
a pair of lips cushion a kiss you’ve bartered off Cupid’s bow.
Then,
fingers splayed at the right angles to receive
a love that fits & fits & just fits
regardless,
despite,
in all ways.
Signed, Your PanBi Seagull
named after Engelbert Humperdinck’s song, Lesbian Seagull
Please note that the formatting of this poem may break on small screens, so we have made a PDF version available.
Audrey L. Reyes (she/her) is a queer Filipino poet and former early childhood educator whose favorite workplace activity is raising hell. Her work has appeared in several online literary magazines, anthologies, and print issues around the world. She resides in Manila.