Lust fragment 1
after Lust for Life
 
They say only the good die
young, and isn’t that right:
 
I’m not a bad boy but
I bought a leather jacket.
 
I am still alive.
Can you tell
 
I’ll be whatever you want?                 
It’s vintage from that thrift shop
 
on First Avenue, you know the one   
with racks and racks of leather and denim.
 
You asked me if it was
but I shrugged and pretended
 
not to know. I shrugged it off. 
It fell from my shoulders,       
 
it was too big for me
so on your hardwood floor
 
I made a pile of my things.
I laid my back on white cotton
 
and sighed.  I reached my palms
upturned towards the skin of your thighs.
 
You squinted, spit on my chest
                                     my teeth opened
 
wide, I said
                        yes                                                       take off, take off--
 
You again, asking                   “Why
don’t you ever take off your pants?”
 
As if in just our pale skins
we could know something.
 
As if we could give
each other ourselves.

---

Joe Nasta (he/they) is a queer writer and mariner who splits their time between New York, Seattle, and the Ocean. Their work can be found in Entropy, The Rumpus, Yes Poetry, Papeachu Review, and others. They co-curate a zine of unconventional art and writing at stonepacificzine.com and serve as prose reader for The Adroit Journal. Find them on instagram and twitter @roflcoptermcgee