The television glowed red with stretchmarks
unable to contain the friction displayed
within perfect bodies light throws shadows,
fables of how the game is played.
It's easy to subdivide derision,
to overwhelm risk with validation,
hands and skin accepting benediction.
Tonight's lit with a well-worn negation;
moonlight cloaks the animal, makes it think
the world is a windowless tomorrow
holding steady on the brink of sunlight.
His lithe archetype might drown out the night.
You can burn the worst on overcast days.
You should learn not to yearn for the cause of the blaze.
Mark Ward's poems have appeared in Assaracus_,_ Tincture_,_ The Good Men Project_,_ HIV Here & Now_,_ Storm Cellar_,_ Studies in Arts and Humanities_,_ Off the Rocks_,_ The Wild Ones_,_ Vast Sky_, and_ Emerge_, as well as in the anthologies_ Out of Sequence: The Sonnets Remixed_,_ The Myriad Carnival and Not Just Another Pretty Face_. He founded_ Impossible Archetype_, a journal of LGBTQ+ poetry. He lives in Dublin, Ireland. Learn more at astintinyourspotlight.wordpress.com._