The Gunman
by Steven Sanchez
Imagine:
the four chambers of my heart
each loaded with a bullet,
each beat another revolution
in my chest,
my throat
a barrel,
my curled tongue
a trigger.
I believe
in spirits,
in every fag
and queer
I’ve heard
and allowed
to pass through my body
and into the next.
I believe
in possession,
believe each metal slug
entering our bodies
tonight is a history
we can’t escape,
forged in factories
across this country
by men
who feel threatened
by love.
And when I stare
into my reflection
one last time tonight,
I know each pupil
will become an exit
wound.
I’ve spent my life
learning to lie
to myself,
but tonight
the truth
will enter my body,
will hurt,
will kill,
will leave
an echo.
Originally published in Glass: A Journal of Poetry, August 3, 2016
Most Poetry will post a poem by a LGBTQ+ poet, selected by our members, each day through the month of August.