James Parker

 
overhead, down facing view of a rumpled bed, red and orange blankets pulled open at one side, cream coloured pillows askew. Watercolour on thick off white stock.

Transsexual

She brings him back to her dorm.
Drunken promises hold them together
as they fall into bed.
Until hickeys turn into harsher marks;
the perfect purple shade
for a smoky eye.
Though the coroner finds a bride of blue
and tags her John Doe,
mumbling, What did he expect?

Aiden

Needle-pricked track marks
lead down his thighs.
Each stab opens a new port window
to old layers of scar tissue.
Withered veins pump into joints
gummed with fat.
Thickening vocal chords
tighten around his shallow breath.

 

Blood Orange


The thick peel swells
until soft flesh bursts
from its seams.
Curled claws fan out
as red juice oozes
around it.
Clotted pulps
slide through the thin stream,
staining the tablecloth.

crow
corvid, artist, tangentially here

James Parker (he/they) attends Francis Marion University where he studies Education and History. He also works for his university's lit mag, Snow Island Review. In their spare time, they enjoy sewing and watching horror movies. Find him on Instagram @luvl12 and less frequently on Twitter @JLP_Poems