Sex+: Two Poems by Malik Thompson

Love Poem: Gloryhole

You beckon me through the hole
cut into the lower half of a door—
from within a realm of shadow,
it begins with one slow motion

of your finger. The blue light flooding
this basement foyer, the sound of warm air
entering & escaping your lungs.
It’s the way I position my hips

before unzipping into the dark. Your hand—
calloused, invisible—caresses the skin
of my inner thigh, pressing firmly against the bone.
I lean my head on whitewashed wood

while midnight teeters into dawn. Dark scum
packed into the grout of faded tile, pill bugs
scurry along the floor. You finally kiss the tip

& one sigh is released from both our mouths

The Incubus Speaks From A Dry Spell

I stammer through alleyways
beneath the light of a half-there
moon     in search of men whose names
I’ll never know          by day three
I felt the first      growl      my hunger
now home to a den of wolves
suppressing crimson howls

day six & the wolves are ravenous
we crave flesh                       foreskin
the musk & brine of semen     volcanic
gush of it        someone’s brush with
ecstasy oozing in my hand

incapable of honoring a weeklong vow
I wander into a clearing of shadows
& barren oak     tread lightly     paper men
pant below the branches    thigh
grazing thigh    some rooted
in the earth          kneeling

cars beyond the park’s stone walls
sweep the night of stillness    echoes
of broken air caress my whetted jaw
as I reach      for a pair of
calloused hands     dark-washed
jeans     his leather belt     unbuckling

About Malik Thompson

Malik Thompson is a Black queer man from Washington, DC. His work is featured, or forthcoming, in The Cincinnati Review, Cobra Milk, Sundog Lit, Diode, MQR Mixtape, Oroboro, Poet Lore, and other places. He has received support from Lambda Literary, Obsidian Foundation, Brooklyn Poets, Cave Canem, and other organizations. He can be found on Instagram via the handle @latesummerstar.