Danez Smith

1.   smoke above the burning bush 2.   archnemesis of summer night 3.   first son of soil 4.   coal awaiting spark & wind 5.   guilty until proven dead 6.   oil heavy starlight 7.   monster until proven ghost 8.   gone 9.   phoenix who forgets to un-ash 10. going, going, gone 11. gods of shovels & black veils 12. what once passed for kindling 13. fireworks at dawn 14. brilliant, shadow hued coral 15. (I thought to leave this blank but who am I to name us nothing?) 16. prayer who learned to bite & sprint 17. a mother’s joy & clutched breath

you save me half a bag of skins, the hard parts, my fav, dusted orange with hot • you say we can’t go to the bar cause you’re taking your braids out i come over, we watch madea while we pull you from you • you make us tacos with the shells i like & you don’t • i get too drunk at the party, you scoop my pizza from the sink with a solo cup, all that red • you, in the morning, bong water grin, wet chin • you, in the lawless dark, laughing like a room of women laugh at a man who thinks his knowledge is knowledge • i text you & you say,i was bout to text you, bitch • you cook pork chops same way i do, our families in another city go to the same church • you, rolling a blunt, holding your son, is a mecca • you invite me out for drag queens on the nights i think of finally [ ] • you pull over in Mississippi so i can walk a road my grandfather bled on • you gave me a stone turtle, it held your palm’s scent for a week • i call your mama mama • you request like a demand,make me some of that mango cornbread i cut the fruit, measure the honey • you & you & you & you go in on a dildo for my birthday you name it drake, you know me • a year with you in that dirty house with that cracked-out cat was a good year • at the function, i feel myself splitting into too many rooms of static you touch my hand & there i am • do you want to be best friends? a box for yes, a box for no • did our grandmothers flee the fields of embers so we could find each other here? friend, you are the war’s gentle consequence • i am the prison that turns to rain in your hands • you, at my door the night my father leapt beyond what we know you, dirt where i plant my light • the branches of silence are heavy with your sweet seed • you smell like the milk of whatever beast i am • your poop is news, your fart is news, your gross body my favorite song • you, drunk as an uncle, making all kinds of nonsense sense i listen for the language between your words • & when we fight, not a ring, but a room with no exit we spill the blood & bandage the wound, clean burns with our tongues • if luck calls your name, we split the pot & if you wither, surely i rot • we hate the same people, we say nigga please with the same mouth • & before we were messy flesh, i’m sure we were the same dust • everywhere you are is a church, & i am the pastor, the deacons, the mothers fainting at the altar • as long as i am a fact to you, death can do with me what she wants • my body, water, your body, a trail of hands carrying the river to the sea • i ink your name into my arm to fasten what is already there • i would love you even if you killed god • you made coming out feel like coming in from the storm • you are the country i bloody the hills for • you love me despite the history of my hands, their mangled confession • at the end of the world, let there be you, my world • god bless you who screens all my nudes, drafts my break-up text • you are the drug that knocks the birds from my heart • ain’t no mountain, no valley, no river i wouldn’t give the hands for comin’ to you sideways • o the horrid friends who were just ships harboring me to you • & how many times have you loved me without my asking? how often have i loved a thing because you loved it? including me • & i always knew • with yo ugly ass