Coop Lee

wet.

i love; the water.
gonna set my sights;
on a sunny californian day.

i thought of you.
oxytocin coursing the grooves of my brain.
and you; in rising colors.

i love; that.
that polyeurithmic riding of again and
again; our bodies.

dark parked cars.
neighborhood bedroom lights; on then off.
we continue; in tongues.

i love; the sand & scent, of
life. of finding ourselves;
in ourselves.



Nickel Arcade

i’m boy with broken jaw
my face and flesh of citrus
my fingers dripping resolute

by weight of sweetened tendon
motion to which i descend
i last resort upon thy tenderloin gloss

touching me under sublunary breath
he melts darkness to sugarfisted bloody
i taste of all he ever needed

it’s a dirtyparadise out here behind the neon nickelcade
day-glo slithering below my belly
just ten bucks, and you’ll get your turn


CP

Coop Lee's writing has appeared in Specter Literary Magazine, Atticus Review, and Ginger Piglet. He lives in Boise, Idaho.