Hand me a towel I’m dirty dancin’ with Gina’s pink-budded tongue
until she lets out a moan almost loud enough for someone to hear.
I’ve been a connoisseur of un-out women; now that I think about it
the ones with daddy issues, unstable self-images, and blunts
dipped in promethazine. We smoke gas in the back of Julian’s pickup
and you become a gap-toothed god before my eyes (or his sexy
apprentice, but who knows what force she has assisting her?) You talk
at length about how u wanna try tabs — I tune out at what I’ve come
to call my high of choice: destruction of my own expectations
mixed with the need to write about girls who only see me with
a devil’s sickle resting on their left shoulder.
Nia KB [they/them] is a Black queer nonbinary poet, editor, and educator. They’ve received fellowships from Lambda Literary, Winter Tangerine, The Speakeasy Project, and UTSA’s African American Literatures and Cultures Institute. Their poetry appears or is forthcoming in Rising Phoenix Review, Damaged Goods Press, Pamplemousse, Pink Plastic House, Vagabond City, and elsewhere. When they’re not blessing stages or writing pages, they serve as Teaching Artist for Creative Action and Badgerdog Creative Writing Program, Curator/Host of the open mic/reading series Austin Interfaces, Assistant Editor for Borderlands: Texas Poetry Review, Associate Editor for fields Magazine, and proud member of Lenguas Loc@s Writers Collective. If you got this far, follow them on the interwebs @nia_kb.