POETRY

Category 4

by West Ambrose in Issue Seventeen, September 2024

It’s alright, I confess. The frosted echoes bluegold
                                                                           melts
                                                                                    stained-glass
back into velvet opera chairs. This vicious nature
                                                          wakes us up inside,
                                                                      tells us we’re alive,
                        forces us to not look away–
     gasps, lunges, howls     honey'd     as ocean’s breath     on the moors

at night. Him and I will survive
                              because we’ll survive together,
until Eternity has its fill.                    We’ll be on that next boat, new land
different name,                    kind of trip. We’ll be wearing
bullet wounds                    out like Versace.
                    We’ll taste iron
                         when we fuck.                    We’ll leave
and when we vanish
     we’re never, ever coming back.     How fast the shadows change tense
                                                                                                              blending in with
                                                                                                         more shadows,
                                                                                                     our shadows
                                                                                     are shadows
                                                                    queer halos
                          blending in with
                          more shadows, alchemizing Blaze—

in the last pew,                    the saffron-smoke eve
ning vespa is recited from                     a burned down church
between our sharp teeth                     and the layover’s aria:

                                                                                               Give us this day,
                                                                               to recount
                                                                                the dizzy feat
of flying moonless
                                                                       and let us try once again
                                                                                               to Misbehave.

© 2024 West Ambrose

West Ambrose

West Ambrose is a scrivener and performing artist. Check out his ever queer works at westofcanon.com. If you want anything published in The HLK quarterly or The Crow’s Nest, just ring for the masthead, and let them know.

Poetry by West Ambrose
  • Category 4