Poetry
Receptacles AMBER MAY
I am accustomed to being wanted more than wanting A diva of love in my youth I could afford to turn my nose up requesting only green M&Ms by the bowl full Afraid of other substances I made myself sick on sweet afraid of penetration I skipped the finger-in-throat trend kept the too much inside prayed to Time to gag itself of too much me Two decades later I love you but will not purge, not yet not first won’t you? What’s the big deal just a soft verb on a power trip cracking the shell of acorn before Eden has conceived its cellular potential Anyway, I’ve heard it’s good to be loved by me but then again, my endless threshold to give is a lot to take.
As a child my heart pumped a blood rainbow up me down me in me out me Those are the colors that is the throbbing with which I want to be told, I love you I want to say, I love you Say it before my teeth erode from all these I love yous I swallow like vomit when there’s no proper receptacle around
Amber May, an artist, animal activist, and social worker (grateful to have purpose and a paycheck during the pandemic), just bought a cottage in Midcoast Maine. She lives with her dog, Bernie.
Please, whitewash your fear and feminize your force field Receive my heart as I receive your cock with a groan with a god deep deep as it goes yes yes as it goes catch your breath love fuck fuck love fuck me love me forever me whatever me forever is only now so don’t be afraid
NEW READER MAGAZINE
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