the shared gaze had always been
falling on avatars,
but we are
young and naked
because guys get changed together.
so, unleashed, following eyes,
limbs forming fluid knots sliding
through our own creases,
long and smooth like Medusa’s
giggling into submissive, one had to finish
atop, and as if remote
controlled, with a chin sitting
where balding will begin
and hips fit in each other like legos,
the pinned boy’s yelp was the bell
to resheathe from knees to breasts
bodies going unrubbed til hormones
harden into stubborn bone.
Alex Wells Shapiro is a poet and artist from New York, living in Chicago. He received his MFA from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago in 2017. A former athlete, much of Alex’s work physicalizes interpersonal and environmental relationships. He has recently published work in NUNUM, Storm Cellar, unstamatic, and Genre: Urban Arts. More of his work may be found at www.alexwellsshapiro.com.
© Alex Wells Shapiro
Photo Credit: © yuravector / Adobe Stock