#achillean

4 posts
  • lemony 66w

    untitled

    two boys holding hands.
    spread across the bed,
    the picture of teen love.
    they both wear smiles,
    their youthful eyes glinting in the
    golden summer sun.

    in storms a man,
    one of their fathers.
    ignorant of their love, their happiness,
    he sees only their genders.
    he sees them as abominations,
    worthy of hell's fiery gates.

    he yells at the boys,
    calling them all sorts of names,
    each word paired with
    the scent of whiskey.

    tears streak down the son's face,
    and his lover watches in worry.
    the father smacks his son,
    leaving a red welt on his cheek.
    the tears come harder and faster,
    like salty waterfalls.

    the father staggers out of their room,
    slamming the door behind him.

    "shhh," the lover coos,
    "I've got you."
    he continues to rub up and down
    the son's back,
    as if he's not terrified of being outed.
    he places a gentle kiss on the son's cheek,
    checking the welt the father had left.

    ~~~

    the world is a warzone for love like ours,
    and we have to wonder if each word
    will be a bullet whizzing by.
    it hurts,
    not being able to hold the hand of the man you love in public,
    knowing that the world may not have room for love like ours.
    and so we keep it in private,
    hoping others don't stumble in,
    discovering our fatal secret.

  • lemony 68w

    heaven

    flowing, succulent lands of milk and honey,
    of gemstones and gold, boundless, unabating.
    the pavement below my sandals shimmers,
    like his eyes glinting in the sun.
    he stands around the corner,
    his masculine beauty radiating, gleaming, glowing.
    he smiles, standing out from the precious surroundings and yet blending in.
    he takes me into his arms and smiled down at me.
    we embrace, caress, amidst an endless ocean of clear, blue sky.
    this is heaven, and he is my savior.

    ©lemony

  • lemony 68w

    drape

    the sheets draped over his body like a veil,
    obscuring all but his face,
    his sleepy, smiling eyes;
    o gods, how I longed to lose myself in his blue, and nothing else,
    to secure myself in his sleepy oceans

    ©lemony

  • lemony 68w

    achillean

    he was flawless.
    my fingers followed his back muscles,
    as if they were the paths to salvation.
    I clung to his collarbone like it was
    the only thing that could save me.
    he was grecian marble,
    a sculpted warrior,
    and I was the awe-struck admirer.
    ©lemony