North Star — Split Lip Magazine

Gay men, I am told, have no sense of direction—
our feminine instinct relies on landmarks to guide us
to and from our concerts. Let me adjust, I say,
and he lifts his weight, shifts his legs, never
like I want him to. Time feels beyond reach, pinned
between his lampposts. I remember the crepe myrtle,
its blossoms flushed and distended on Legare Street,
where I fell in love with you. I am years late.
I have overstayed. For millennia incalculable,
the earth shifts its gaze from one bright spot to another.
You like that? he asks. I am beginning to forget the tenor of
your voice. It is slow coming, but it’s on the way.

Joshua Garcia’s (@garciajoshxa) debut collection, Pentimento, is forthcoming from Black Lawrence Press. His poetry has appeared in The Cincinnati Review, The Georgia Review, Ninth Letter, North American Review, and elsewhere. He holds an MFA from the College of Charleston and was a 2021-22 Stadler Fellow at Bucknell University. He lives and writes in Brooklyn, New York.