Levi Todd "Red Rover (or For the Ex That Said She Was Turning A Gay Boy Straight)"
On either end,
a thousand yellow traffic lights
cradle doubt beneath their clucking tongues.
Their furrowed eyebrows beckon me,
calling with crooks in their fingers
broken like question marks.
They think my mouth a suggestion
box for their own gospel,
even when my jaw no longer hangs
open on rusted hinges,
when I am not pandering for oil
dripping off lovers’ tongues.
I’ve felt the calla lilies blossom
in my wanting palms.
I know that more than asphalt grows here.
That jaywalking without a destination
in this liminal space is no crime;
it can swell with intention.
a heart with a blurred border
is always questioned.
The pedestrians can keep waiting
with lockjaw when I refuse to turn
away from their gaze.
I will bury my feet here, unmoved
and uttering a covenant of love
from the middle of the road.