On Botticelli’s Primavera
by Zach Semel
Rules for boyhood
Be naked
but only in the right ways.
Streak & skinny-dip
but don’t make eye contact.
In fact, never make eye contact
without a diplomat’s stiff
nod, like
reluctant husbands stuck
together on a double date;
deny that we are all artifacts
of closeness: nothing but knots
of cooperating veins.
Tell no one that you know
there are 500 plant species in Primavera
or that you want to study them all:
to memorize the delicate scrawl on ivy leaves,
then hug the trunks they wrap around—please,
find a way to accept that love
has limits.
Be thankful for being
unnoticed—
the pluckable root,
the scavenger’s snack
do not survive.
When spring comes,
adapt—trade
your sweatpants
for baggy shorts; if
you bought a sundress,
let it age into wrinkles while
you tell yourself, “It’s okay,
the florals will always be
this vibrant,” even
Flora would’ve known
better than to look
like a woman
if she weren’t one.
Nature is full
of contradictions, so be sure
that when the wind blows,
it whistles through you
most loudly, contort yourself
to be heard, color yourself
in toxic shades, remember:
the plant is a self-serving thing
and the forest is crowded—
learn quickly that a mere flimsy
flower cannot dig out a tree’s
deep roots, can only stay close
or lean away
and adjust
to living without hungering
for light, seeing the stars
appear, like pollen
floating down from branches—
god, you will wish someone told you
what you really needed.
Someday, when you step off a sidewalk curb
to leave room for cis-boys slurring
and brawling, watch, and see nothing
but a tangled pair of stems in a canopy’s
darkness, vying for a slightly longer
lick of sun
and know that you deserve better.
About the Author:
Zach is an M.F.A. candidate in Creative Nonfiction at Northern Arizona University. He is an avid Celtics fan, a wannabe psychoanalyst, and a lover of all things garlicky. Some of his other work has appeared or is forthcoming in The Nervous Breakdown, Breath & Shadow,Wordgathering, Read650 Jew-ish, and other places.
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.