HERON LIKE AN ANGEL

and to act like i could ever be without you,

i don’t. 

on may twenty eighth we are kissing in the car, 

kissing on the side of route one 

over and over again, sinking canine teeth into ripe peach,

flesh on the curb.

watching you, 

watching that highway, kiss me now.

kiss me the way you want to, mouth to mouth, 

resurrect me, dear god,

i could be your Jesus 

if it means i can touch your face like this. 

on june twenty third, you kiss me between those doors,

french exit, a theatre makeout

leaves my bottom lip

tingling. 

touch my thigh, baby,

let me see god in this earth,

open my legs,

make me feel it. 

i could open for you. 

i could open you.

below, on july second, you are hot

and soft

and wet,

i tear off my press ons 

to be gentle with you,

make you quake,

my stratosphere, you are 

heart shaped and 

beating around my index, 

make you shiver,

clumsily undressed in 

nothing but a maxi skirt,

this is what lesbianism looks like,

gigi perez was so right. 

pressing your palm to my neck,

these summer nights, 

the stars look down on us in affection.

Ronit May is a twenty year old social work student at Ramapo College. Their work has been published in The Closed Eye Open’s Issue XI, The Blood Pudding, StreetLit, and more. Their second chapbook, A Sentence Is A Garden You Stumble Through (Hoping To Pick A Word So Beautiful), is a note on living queerly and delightfully and bipolar. It is currently available for purchase upon request.