If we die, it will be laughing
hard enough to suffocate
or fall off chairs, crack
open our skulls --
I want to lose everything
steeped in your joy.
No, I want to contain
each extreme simul
taneous, then feel
nothing. Tell me obscene
jokes & desires. Whatever
you want me I already
am, soaked in milk or
cerebral fluid. Maybe
for a moment we can live
& then finally be empty.
**This poem was a part of my Love Poems project, which I wrote about in my Field Notes Series and you can read on Medium. I will be posting more of the Love Poems here on Vocal as well.**
About the Creator
Joe Nasta
Hi! I'm a queer multimodal artist writing love poems in Seattle, one half of the art and poetry collective Eat Yr Manhood, and head curator of Stone Pacific Zine. Work in The Rumpus, Occulum, Peach Mag, dream boy book club, and others. :P
Reader insights
Outstanding
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Easy to read and follow
Well-structured & engaging content
Heartfelt and relatable
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