i.
you're on a motorbike with a beautiful boy and you're innocent, but he doesn't think you are.
you sit somewhere between monstrosity and man, between timidity and anger, and all you can think of are his eyes, and how they skimmed past yours when they used to meet, in lazy heat and laughter
for a moment, you want to do something dangerous, dramatic, tear at your clothes and tear at his face and demand
you cling to his strength of his shoulders because that's all you can do and the engine hums between you
his hands do not linger at your lips or your lower back
"don't bother," he says and his disdain is exquisite, like his voice, like his face. he climbs steps without you, ice crystals in his hair and
you turn away to vomit into the snow
you don't hate him
ii.
you're in bed with a beautiful boy and you're angry, and you don't know how to tell him
there's a part of you that revels in violence, that wants to lunge at his white throat with teeth bared and rip the answers from his mouth but it scares you so you stare at the wall and say nothing
a cigarette flutters and he drags on it, ashes on the bed between you, and he does not offer it to you even though he used to
you cling to the sound of his breathing because that's all you can do and secrets pile up between you
your hands do not linger on his bare upper thigh
"it can't be," you think and your fear is encompassing, like your rage, like the wolf. he climbs into the shower without you, water on his skin
you turn your face to the pillow
you don't hate him.
iii.
you're in love with a beautiful boy and you've said that you hate him, but you don't.
if there was ever a moment you wished for the change, for pain without meaning that sears every sinew, every particle, that twists you into something that does not have to think, it is now
there's a man in the room with you and he forced a cup of tea into your hands and you do not even feel it burn your fingers
you cling to a beautiful boy in a photo because it's all you can do and oceans lie between you
your hands do not linger on his pale printed face
"he did it," you say, and the truth is staggering, like the murder, like their graves. he leaves the room without you, tears in his long white beard.
you bury your face in your hands
you don't hate him
