Bamboo shoots on my grandmother's side path
grow denser every year they’re harvested for nuisance.
Breezes peel blush and white petals from her magnolia,
lacing unruly roots in the spring grass. For nine decades
she has seen every season stretch out of shape, this past
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Yes as thievery, except if saved for
a fantasy in which I in a backless
you on a typical balcony
overlooking Vltava, gripping the latticework,
metal, a barrier to leaping
into an esoteric night, fixed and ornate
enough, like my penchant for the infinite
within the singular, encounter you
as tributary, serpentine, the heat of your fingers
on my spine, my head turning
as you bend to catch the yes
I'd held latent, a mine you trigger with
your tongue, neither of us
mean to stop exploding.
Khadijah Queen’s most recent book is Fearful Beloved (Argos Books, 2015). She works as an editor for a finance company. In 2016, she will join the new low-residency Mile-High MFA program at Regis University as a core faculty member in poetry.