









Having a flame with you
is even more fun than going to Middle-Earth, Narnia, and the Land of Oz
or being nauseous at the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade
partly because in our blue, pink dress we look like a better and sexier Peter Pan
partly because of our love for each other, partly because of our love for butterbeer
partly because of the purple orchids that sprout between the rocks we split open in the mines partly because of the pregnant ogre queens that secretly smiled when the elemental fairies carried us into the fog
it is hard to believe when we’re together that purity
is anything other than a human-made parasite
an unpleasantly long-lasting technology
somehow dissolved as we drift back and forth between each other
so our bellies sweat and glitter to lull our fear to sleep
and we no longer care to wonder why in the world, from the Southern Whispering Forest to the Northern Mountains of Death
anyone at all could place their gaze upon us and still dare to ask is this love?
* Written in dialogue with Frank O’Hara’s Having a Coke With You
Poem by Bernardo Núñez Magdaleno