Alex De Leon

I like it when you are serious.

Your “I’m a fucking asshole” mask is removed

by the gentle shadow of your past,

the one that waits with you and I greet

in the light of the subway lamppost.

We jet off underground

like flashing neon lights of fast cities

to drink and discover the ecstasy of our bodies.

Exhilarating libidos, volatile and volcanic

Fluid erupting as I leave a kiss on the corner of your mouth.

You slide your hands around my waist

and blow a sweet sigh in my ear.

We leave behind all that is work for you and school for me.

All that is bullshit to you and soulful to me.

And as the club music blasts and your eyes become dim

I feel like I’ve lost you a little bit.

You’ve pushed away your shadow.

And I think again, I like it when you are serious.

There is a calm sincerity that illuminates your eyes.

When it happens, it challenges me.

I like it when you are serious.

Your woeful shadow appears like the dawn in fleeting pillow talks

of favorite books and laments for grandparents.

The few moments when we philosophize in the nude

and you share verses of suffering.

When you let the shadow of your past take over your being

and cloak you in a rich cloth of wisdom

as you let those few tears fall down your soft face.

You notice my silence understands you and your heartbreak.

And you crown me with a kiss on my forehead.

I like it when you are serious.

Your bad grammar dissolves.

Your intelligence emerges

masculine, confident, beautiful

like the hand you placed on my hand.