Cant
by Robert Américo Esnard
It was in the way you looked at me−stuck,
eyes soft, gaze firm−that I first knew.
I cannot remember what you said,
but I followed you, wherever we went.
Eyes soft. Gaze firm. That I first knew
this was a secret, was a portent,
but I followed you, wherever we went
looking for that same stare I'd met.
This was a secret; was a portent
of all the wrong kinds of love I'd go
looking for. That same stare I'd meet.
Me a broken cipher in the mouths of men
of all the wrong kinds of love. I'd go,
but I am stuck. The way you looked at me
a broken cipher. Me in the mouths of men.
I said what you cannot remember.
About the Author:
Robert Américo Esnard was born and raised in the Bronx, NY. He studied Linguistics and Cognitive Science at Dartmouth College. His work has been published by Glass, Alternating Current Press / The Coil, Lunch Ticket, and several anthologies. He is a Best of the Net and Pushcart Prize-nominated poet.
About All Accounts:
All Accounts and Mixture is an annual online feature celebrating the work of LGBTQIA+ writers and artists. For this series, we seek work from authors who self-identify as "queer," while acknowledging that this designation is subjective and highly personal. Our goal is to provide a forum for writers whose voices might be mis- or underrepresented by the literary mainstream. Submissions are open from June 1 to July 1. Poetry, prose, visual art, reviews and interviews will all be considered. Visit Submittable for more details.