Fragment
Razor blades & pink salt. Broken
nails stashed in a place
they’re unable to puncture. Gloomy
as a drenched bat,
he kept his nose
in large books.
Honeysuckle strangling
a chain-link fence,
the sparrow’s wing
I crush with my left hand.
Veil of pride
to lace the shame.
When I sleep,
he becomes blue fire.
Black clouds swollen with green rain.
Gold hoops lost in snow.
Malik Thompson (he/they) is a Black queer person from Washington, DC. His work has been published in the Cincinnati Review, Denver Quarterly, Poet Lore, and elsewhere. He has received fellowships and residencies from organizations including Cave Canem, Lambda Literary, the Anderson Center, and Sundress Publications. He can be found on IG via the handle @latesummerstar.