in my bed prudes are always welcome where else are we
supposed to go
we the martyrs of shame yes i would die for the feeling if
it does not barren me
first we are the hole or we end up in one hesitant to
acknowledge
longing is just a quiet desire
we write poems about apples red as wintered cheeks
crisp as a kiss caressing
queerness i want to be who i am but who has the time to break open an entire body
of memory to hold the sections in your hands like a
clementine
in my bed i host a prayer circle for the virgins & the
regretful
we light candles & make slim offerings fragrant with citrus i confess the first
meal of the day is the hardest to eat sometimes we
all raise our voices
in want
Prude Song
Em Norton is a queer poet from Toronto. You can read more of Em’s work at emnortonwrites.com.