I say I am trying to exhaust myself
and you say I just want to kiss
but I am farther ahead
stomping poison oak
where it is steep we talk
about the disco age
the queerness of yellow
performer make-up
and these conversations
we drag up
heavier than ourselves
slender trees poke up
beside us
I say
trees must crunch
like grass
under a giant’s foot
and you say
even the most conscientious people kill bugs
later
everything torched
flames that prove themselves
we are standing
side by side thick sweat
shirtless
our chests thumping
like clocks
and you still want to kiss
as I climb to the top
of the last burning tree
1001 