The way you look
at me tenderly
when
your fingers trace
my body
I feel your touch enter me
like a pin
through soft board
and the couch
feels like
a mounting horse

the reins of my heart
are still wired
around cold metal

I’m awake at once
to my own fragility
I am at the white corner
of destruction
I burst into flames
with your kisses
screaming as I burn away.

Shaleen works as an activist on gay rights in New Delhi, India. When he is (also when he is not) traveling down fabulous Indian village roads, he takes pictures and writes poetry. The Bling Diary is a queer poetry column updated whenever its time to run down the street with sparklers.