1
Poetry
filet portrait
Neha Thapar
The king of hearts, dripping red
Head severed, your hands conceal
The treasure of the least expensive card
In your set
Who needs a better gift than time
To play card games with the people you adore?
A portrait of Freddy Mercury leans
Against the yellow wall
Your skin reaches for mine
The spark ignites like the stars
stuck to the ceiling of my bedroom
When you fade from my reality
Back into yours, the air sticks to my chest
Thick as the grief of a life we could
Have endured together, portraits of people
Long gone, you admire, I create.
How queer is this tension when your letter
Consists only of how much your heart longs for this idea
Of sharing a space, an identity, a license plate?
The blood of the king of hearts drips through
My phone case, when you call me, and I’m sick
Of clearing up my headspace, your heart doesn’t bleed,
It expresses.