Pietro
after Michelangelo's blackmailer
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 author
Joe Nasta
Hi! I'm Joe (ze/zir), a queer multimodal artist and writer. I work at Third Place Books in Seattle.
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Easy to read and follow
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