POEMS BY REYA MARI VELOSO

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Despite

I.

This language game:
Tangled in a tango, my arguments
Wrapped around your fingers,
Your utterances blocking
My blindside.

II.


We recall our first enchantments:
Conversations at 4am, silences
While eating ice cream, squinting
In photographs, dancing
To kitschy tunes. We are still
Young, aren’t we?

III.

Longevity is a tricky word:
Moles on your face, my thousand
North Stars. The guise you take
When lost: a wounded fox.
I remembered how you wrote
For me

* * *

Something Sexy

think of something sexy
like spaghetti,
like my tongue wrapped
around yours, flicking
in different languages
(minus the subtitles).

think of something sexy
like saying ‘sorry, it’s not you, it’s me,’
like bleeding in-growns or raging
hormones, think of something
sexy (minus the labels, definitely
minus the significant others).

think of something sexy
like a self-righteous baby,
like never ever having
to say ‘please love me,’
(in different languages)
or how you pronounce
the word meme as mee-mee.

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