Love (To Come Apart), by Fan Wu


The boy’s body by the riverside
of the mind:
his will a knife’s edge
at the turn of his suffering.
You take his tongue
to flame,
his wide lips
where you pressed your boot
to soil.
His tears run a long gully
to his praise for you.
his sunlit sex a slivered & blinding apex
raised toward
your devotion.
Love, as it were, travels both ways
and ends only where the wrist flicks
back at a bad angle,
or the body
at an awkward bend
loses the pale heat of motion.
You will remember
his body as a vast land you made overflow
with that liquid vainly called death.
You caress the last shaft
of evening light from your skin.
You leave your love unburied.