Thomas Stewart
Boston Grindr, 2012

Virginia Wolfe
sat beside

your bed
when you stuck

your tongue
in my ear,

I watched the
gleam from

your stethoscope
and asked

if you’d seen
someone die

no was the
answer as

you fell
to my nipple

your hair like
grass cut with

a scythe, your
glasses reflecting

the ghost over
my shoulder.