-by Brian Quinn
Photo “Waiting in the Rain”
by Hanson Mao


Part One

when I say I
love you(
trust you)
I am not
consum(at)ing your
worth: how can I
I’ve only ever known a

(there is only ever one everything at any given moment)

to him
you are only ever
never known this you)when
he tells you one can never count on
moonlight, calls you
beautiful only at noon.

more about in-relation-to
as much about (co?)ordinates
as composition.

and you:
you will only meet
(y)our lovers
in the pre-dawn city as it rains,
neon giving
lust(er) to sidewalks
in ways the moon or the sun
never could

Part Two

Police sirens and rattling subway trains are hope for continued night, but in this mo(u)rning glare, the GIRLS-GIRLS-GIRLS sign outside your studio’s third story window might as well be advertising stationary, its neon promise no longer providing proof of the temple that is the small of your back, so worshiped by rain and the tongues of (every)last night’s lovers.


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