The front door yawns open, a cavernous mouth
that spits us into the street. Midnight’s pulse
throbs at my back. My parents lie fast asleep,
as we glide, easy as angelfish, into the velvety
dark of the forest across the street from my house.
You squeeze my sweating palm to yours, and we
push through the trees, toward the highway. I clutch
a kitchen knife, sharp twist of steel, in my right-hand
pocket. When I glance over at you, your lips flash
at me, red as the slick innards of a raspberry beignet.
We walk so close together that your fishnets, blue, snag
on mine, black. You laugh, and the sound is so sweet,
I imagine squirrels and raccoons coming out of hiding
to walk alongside us. As I untangle our stockings, the highway
shimmers into view, a luminous strip of asphalt dotted
with the occasional six-wheel truck. A streetlight slants
into the night, and beneath it, we can see the long
shadows of two teenage boys. Waiting for us. I grip
your hand, but you lunge forward. You seem to know
who they are; seem to expect them. Their laughter
cracks through the night, and they sound like nothing
so much as hyenas. You let go of my hand, and gallop
down the shoulder of the road. Your red hair streams
behind you in a curtain of tangled curls, all at once
flashing bright like blood beneath the streetlamps.
This was supposed to be the first night I kissed you.
I turn away, back towards the forest. I don’t let go
of the knife in my pocket, not even for a single second.
Originally published by Beyond Queer Words, 2022
Here's a bit about Robin Kinzer: I'm a queer, disabled poet, memoirist, and editor. I've worked primarily in the mental health field, most recently as a crisis counselor with LGBTQ+ youth. I've also been a veterinary assistant, a bookseller, a theatre teacher, a pinup girl, a photographer, and a communist beaver in a PBS documentary. I'm now an MFA candidate at The University of Baltimore. I have poems and essays recently published, or shortly forthcoming, in Little Patuxent Review, Wrongdoing Magazine, fifth wheel press, Delicate Friend, Kissing Dynamite, The Bitchin’ Kitsch, Ice Queen Magazine, Defunkt Magazine, and others. I serve as a Poetry Editor for the winnow magazine, and am taking over as the Poetry Editor for The Broadkill Review in January. My short memoir, “Onion Grass in February”, recently won second place in Blood Orange Review’s Emerging Writer’s Contest. Exciting stuff! I love muppets, vintage fashion, radical kindness, Ferris wheels, and glitter. I have three floofy cats named Sushi, Edamame, and Ice Cream Muffin. I can be found on Twitter at @RobinAKinzer and at www.robinkinzer.com