after Måneskin / Damiano David

ladylike a colleague asked of me handing over
a bagful of size 8s i don’t think that black suits you
like this does baby pale chiffon waterfall
of air softly squeezing into skin the sleeves
lace delicate webbing me chiffon fraying
hairs straining under its faint wrap the chill
print ing me between its pattern & through
this barely veil: fem gems kissed to fem fabric
see, he swung his 5-inch heel over the mic
tipping champagne in his counter-act & my
lip twitched with his grin hands glitter
ing up our chest chorus playing its grip at my throat
’s soft gendered skin this is gendered heavily
neither voice scratching he trickles to my
fingers tips letting in tips presenting me at the
wrist blue & peach-webbed i catch siamo fuori
di testa ma diversida loro mouth him into this fit
slick my hand through my hair tongue hangin
g hips locked forward scribble the sleeves up
tucked at the waist & buffing over this
heave material into our ribs & tip throat open
ed claw my tonsils -off/key- fly in my throat
donking the seeable notes under the tongue hitting
nonnote surely voice tugging twice for the octave
upcough it up fall child into the breast-film
he grinds revving against my diaphragm i slip
crossing over my chest laced-arms kissing them tog