He had green eyes,
                                     so I wanted to sleep with him
      green eyes flicked with yellow, dried leaves on the surface of a pool—
You could drown in those eyes, I said.
                                                                                  The fact of his pulse,
the way he pulled his body in, out of shyness or shame or a desire
      not to disturb the air around him.
Everyone could see the way his muscles worked,
                                     the way we look like animals,
                                                                    his skin barely keeping him inside.
        I wanted to take him home
and rough him up and get my hands inside him, drive my body into his
      like a crash test car.
                        I wanted to be wanted and he was
very beautiful, kissed with his eyes closed, and only felt good while moving.
      You could drown in those eyes, I said,
                                                                                  so it’s summer, so it’s suicide,
so we’re helpless in sleep and struggling at the bottom of the pool.