On thinking of Ben rolling out his legs

By Roy Wang

Ben. And I fucking cum and I love it
surfing those waves whether I’m 
shopping for artichokes, basket 
in elbow crook at the coop (fuck Whole Foods
—except in a pinch) or in bed
admiring him with Melody--
like that rush falling off the ferry
to Kangaroo Island, turbulent air
circulating taking your breath away
before hitting the spume 
lost in that icy latte.

The body doesn’t shiver but vibrates
to process the feeling, a spherical wave
reflections constructively interfering 
returned by boundaries that start
and end in this chin this head this heart

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Roy is a queer, non-binary, polyamorous Chinese-Canadian poet living in Brooklyn. They have been been published in The Anomaly, The Windsor Review, Prairie Fire and have work forthcoming in CanLit.