HEY YOU, SIR, SHOULD BE COMING OUT
Sped-up Diana Ross playing from the overhead
mini-speaker, iam gonnado itlike younever
knewit ohi’ll makeit throughthe timehas comefor
me! in a fruit skewer shop, I kissed a man.
He was 50 & an eddy of begging & I didn’t know
my age; I was the best lover in Sukhumvit
and the worst thing it could offer you. Who
could fracture dolling into two, one for them
& the other cleaved breastlike towards my purse
& I, but me & then you? I didn’t know
Thai but it was fine, he was there for
Asian(girl)s & I was just enough of one
but still the other, & so so beetroot purple
in all the parts that matter, i’mspreading
lovethere isno needto fearand ijust feelso
good! & good didn’t really mean anything.
He reached out & unmoved me, I secured
my leg over his, & good lord & Diana the night
was so violet-
T.R.San (they/them) is a queer poet based in Yangon who writes horror without meaning to. Their work has been published or is forthcoming in Cobra Milk Magazine, Erato Magazine, and others.