“Damien” by Stephen Jackson

Damien came
on my hand
when I played
with the button
on his pants, the
tip of his cock
popping up be-
tween his belly
and his waist-
band. His heart
pounding like
a wild man, his
breath hot enough
to melt lead, but
I’d no nerve
to kiss him on
the mouth, after
Damien said,
That’s enough,
we will never
do that again!
His cock no
longer stiff, he
wiped up with
his shirt, while
my own heart
beat like an un-
caged bird
whose wings he
had just clipped.

—–

Stephen Jackson lives and writes in the Pacific Northwest, where he divides his time between Washington and Oregon. His poems have most recently appeared or are forthcoming in The American Journal of Poetry and Grey Sparrow Journal.