father and son

he had a quick urge to write about the episode involving an attractive black youth accused, searched, scolded and humiliated by a crime he might not have committed
which he witnessed in shock, self-interest and passiveness

he walked away missing a third eye
and possibility for fandom
left with the teasing of the physical
and non-attainable beauty

aware of his animal streaks, his tendency for objectified prey
along with the mid-twenties’ wrinkles and thick, abandoned neck hair

he used to be better at hiding and flaunting
but he filled time with book covers and grooming kits
and the occasional photograph to prove the world wrong

he was storage for the beautiful
for cross-continental stories of stardom
like Yukio, Paolo and Pedro
self-indulgency and well-hidden bliss

if only his muscles were mine and my intelligence bought you coffee and painted middle eastern walls invisible but gold
plasmatic enough to at least feel fucked