Some Sexy Poems

Special Poems for the Special Issue

Graphic Jennifer Aedy


By Diane Dollisen

The day your mother caught us kissing in your bedroom,
you told me that the world looked like how your insides felt:
trauma after trauma
relived and relived.

I traced flower petals on your stomach with the tips of my fingers
and told you stories
to keep us both from crying.

The next day I couldn’t shut up about rebirth
and the sadness of a world that would never know us
as Vita and Virginia
reincarnated in brown skin.
You called me silly
and you never went back home
and our mothers called us twenty times
while we abandoned the world
in your boyfriend’s ugly one-bedroom apartment.

And I know that in the next life, you’ll still try to convince me
that the sun is better for my skin
and I’ll just tell you how the light only stops hurting
when you touch me
and you’ll pretend to be happy for as long as you can.


Today my mother still scolds me for dreaming
and says no boy will ever love me this way,
only now she apologizes too much
and I guess I agree with her.

Because sometimes I’ll rage at god for making me forget your face
when you show up everywhere,
even though I know it’s not her fault.
And sometimes I’ll leave myself behind to make up
entire days with you
on all the moons and in all the gardens
and in all the fairy tales we created,

before the world began to look like how my insides feel:
trauma after trauma
relived and relived.

“So, pity me
while I am sexy
because I need you
to make me feel
manly.“— Vernon LeCraw

Unstable Toxicity

By Vernon LeCraw

Fat privilege
In a world so skinny.
I do not struggle
to have my audience.
Listen attentively when
my sisters hold
more authority.
Yet, I bear the audacity
to smother others’ opportunities
by raising mY VOICE.
What choice do I have?
I plea
desperate for sympathy.
So, pity me
while I am sexy
because I need you
to make me feel