Blue flame
BY Joshua Merchant

whenever I see a gay boy
with a moth tattoo I pray
for mana to dust the soles
of his feet as soon as he
leaves his bed,

a mother who can still
spell his name when asked
to pick a number from a line up,

a father who lined him up
after all lines dispersed
and the coloring books
became an alarm system
for the fluttering.

to give birth to
a bunch of butterflies,
entrap them in the
catacombs of fire
and tell them

in the afterlife
they deserved
to be extinct

is to make abominations
of your God(s). we are only
flesh when naked. your God
had to have been flesh
this entire time.