Thomas Stewart
Boston Grindr, 2012
Virginia Wolfe
sat beside
your bed
when you stuck
your tongue
in my ear,
I watched the
gleam from
your stethoscope
and asked
if you’d seen
someone die
no was the
answer as
you fell
to my nipple
your hair like
grass cut with
a scythe, your
glasses reflecting
the ghost over
my shoulder.