I finally found you last night
you were waiting for me with a beer in your hand
I remembered you from the many dreams
and you had a look like you remembered me too
these aren’t the words I have to tell you
or I’m going to tell you
the next time we see each other
this is just the bird chirp of flicking tongue
when you rolled your neck and cradled me closer
or when you dipped your chin to look at me
as if down the barrel of a hot gun
I think you saw me with the pool stick
in my hands and I made the shot
I think you wanted me as in face down on the table
but I can’t be sure
I was making eye contact all night and was proud about it
you flicked your lashes in ways I don’t know how to
and I like how you painted my nails a luscious green
they look horrifyingly blue in this light of my computer
I close the blinds everyday except when I’m naked
and open them again at night to see if I can see god
the dark lamellar ivy extremis
I didn’t see him last night but I found you
I didn’t drag my body through spaghetti westerns
&now my nails are the color of the green felt table
we played cutthroat on and I beat you
and your friends
hopefully I have your respect
I honestly don’t know if you have mine I’m sorry
this isn’t a love poem
this is a rap song I play for my inner child
I’m just so happy to be alive
to still be alive (and insane)
I’ll drink your rainwater if you stay alive with me
there, now that was nice, right
Chris Salveson is a california poet and current MFA candidate in fiction at Umass Amherst. Previously published in Matchbox Magazine and Red Wheelbarrow Anthology.