Luís Costa
Tyrant sorrow, dressing wounds under
the glowing light of the microwave.
Devoured by this jungle of desolation.
Tonight, your body will surrender
to the storm. And I wait for the tides
to turn, for the whip to rest. My plate
is full of lemons. Just for now, he will
possess you. Leather, oil and wood,
crimson breaths breeding grudges.
I have always been the rain. This is
a minute of sage disquiet. Rotating,
mordant elixir. Because tomorrow
the earth will dry, my feet will warm.
And all of his ropes will set me free.
Luís Costa
Originally published in INKSOUNDS Journal 4
All this time,
we were the moths.
In pants and socks.
Shirts on the
bedroom floor.
One day they will
make a film about us.
Chasing
candles, baking tarts.
We have
danced around the dust.
And so
I have loved you,
dawn through
dusk,
quivering wings rising in
teeth,
sugar,
peach and
tongue.
LUÍS COSTA (he/they) is, among many things, an anxious queer poet living in London. Longlisted for the 2022 Out-Spoken Prize for Poetry and a finalist of the Write Bloody UK competition, his recent work can be found in Visual Verse, Stone of Madness, Inksounds and Queerlings. Luís holds a PhD from Goldsmiths, University of London, and likes Baroque music, numbers and wine. He tweets @captainiberia.