by Gordon Taylor

Stone Fruit
My younger lover in vintage
selvedge jeans and orange hoodie,
wipes our kitchen counter.
Orange is my favourite
colour. Can the cluster
of rotting tangerines
coated with a skin of flies
in the acacia bowl
effuse a sweet flavour?
Should I retire
from drink in this middle
middle age?
The answer: juice.
I don’t mean sex.
Or I do. I’m searching
for a word to contain
both lust and envy.
Maybe, rain. Sweat
not mixed with lotion.
Faint mist in his hair.
Stride, not swagger
but less history.
Can we say I’m ancient
but new, both stone
and nectar? Our power
fails. Clouds crouch.
Purple lightning cuts fog.
He leads me
to the back field. We lie
together in the wet
grass, legs overlapping,
generating our own
heat and light.
Poet Gordon Taylor (he/him) is a queer, emerging poet who walks an ever-swaying, braided wire of technology and poetry. A 2022 Pushcart Prize nominee, his poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Narrative, Cincinnati Review, Rattle Poet’s Respond, Poet Lore, Palette Poetry and more. He writes to invite people into a world they may not have seen.
Artist Ignatius Sridhar (he/him) is an emerging artist and photographer. In his work, Ignatius focuses on the digital arts in the areas of street photography and landscapes. His current project is Found Latin, a study of the language’s influence in modern Rome. His work has been published in journals including the Burningword Literary Journal, L’Esprit Literary Review, Wild Roof Journal, The Words Faire, and Kitchen Table Quarterly.
