m.h., buried in women’s clothes
by Julian Dooley
CW: queer death
you – see – we hardly knew you
hunched long-backed over yourself
ribs upon ribs upon ribs
dig yourself a home in the dirt
soft sucking heat and see
the way
your palm cups my waist see
the way
your flat feet fit right into mine
come with me – see –
slip your fingers into
the hollows between my fingers
and walk with me for a little while.
we won’t read what they said of you
no – newsprint decays and earthens
into something clean and good and new
and we say
this body is i
we say
i am what i need
so when they cut into me –
free me into the world
the way
the world freed itself of you –
give your voice to my voice.
i will return it when i join you
in the paper – in the dirt
and i’ll say see –
un-blooded ancestor see
see how i see you
unmarked
i see you
i see you.
Julian Dooley is a writer living and working in his hometown, New York City. He can be reached at @bigboytoadking on twitter.