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P
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e
m
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my man was committed
to an asylum as a child
wild thing    fungal
phylum    virus

thought they could fix him
that he could be fixed

his sickness too much
too much his diagnoses

drugs & boys & language
& boys & drugs

he was given a pill & made old<
he was made cold in his skin

i try to place myself
inside the conversion clinic
when i touch his back
as he sleeps

baby queer with bangs
hanged like dead men before his face
arms a collision of scissor wars

& o the shower steam that rose behind him
as his man who was also a child
& also committed
entered him for the first time

between the shifts
of the nurses

took him raw in the open stall
with only the salve of soap
between them blood

i enter him like this
brushing the bodies
from his face
tasting the plastic
restraints