If I Told You My Love Has Since Become a Shower

of jagged flecks of pink and blue foil confetti photographed against a frost-white wall would you think back to when we were lovers and try to see us covered in metallic down charged up with all the lust our doubt had dammed up at the pits of our hearts, would you tell me exactly what you want and how you want it, would you please believe that I had it to give, and would you accede that something radiant was about to emerge that summer in your loft bed, in that space between our chests, in that sweat, ready, stunning, electric, pulsing, lit with trust and sex?


(After I Miss Everyone Who Has Ever Gone Away  (1997, 2008) by Dario Robleto, a photograph of paper airplanes constructed out of candy wrappers from Felix Gonzalez-Torres’s piece Untitled (1990).)

Roy Pérez lives in Portland, Oregon, and teaches literature, queer theory, and performance studies at Willamette University.  His poems have appeared in FENCE, the Best of PANIC! anthology (Fire King Press) and at thethepoetry.com.  He is a founding member of the birdsong arts collective and small press in Brooklyn, New York, for which he serves as contributing poetry editor.  He tweets @ultramaricon.