I give you head in the parking lot
of the town’s senior center on a
cloudy April Saturday.
Expecting light foot traffic yet the
kings and queens of our community power
walk by my Corolla pondering lovers past (or
passed). We tuck away by a for-profit metal
monster masked as a book donation bin.
The windows (rolled up) conceal my body’s
protest when you push my head down.
I’d like to think the people walking by are
happy for us. Perhaps recalling their own
youthful pleasure adventures in the dark just
the night before…
Aimee Nicole is a chronically ill queer poet currently residing in Rhode Island. She holds a BFA in Creative Writing from Roger Williams University and has been published by the Red Booth Review, The Nonconformist, and Voice of Eve, among others. For fun, she enjoys attending roller derby bouts and trying desperately to win at drag bingo.