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A poem by David Ly

Image by Kaique Rocha

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nothing is real unless we are gorgeous, hair coiffed, effortlessly flexing. document this for our 1,000,000 followers: my bf and i casually strolling the pier. he hates the smell of the ocean. i ignore the sting of another’s cologne on his neck as i lick ice cream from his lips. the lighting is good to us tonight. make sure to catch his smile now, not the one he cracked while cumming on that guy from Grindr 12hrs ago. make me look better than him. edit the regret from my eyes.

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he favourites the highs another man’s kisses gave him, scrolls past what i offer. drown the glow ignited by this other man’s lips. but not so much that we look like a daguerreotype of when we didn’t keep secrets. make us appear put together, ideal, a jealousy-invoking adjective. saturate the nastiness vibrating off us. soften the bags my eyes gathered from waiting up all night for him to come home. focus on the Versace logo on my sleeve, the frame of his Ray-Bans. erase any evidence that we aren’t the type of guys to be each other’s type.

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#bae and i soaking in the last bit of sunshine before it leaves us for good

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