It was a hot day when I helped him move in,
but his hungry look and sweat covered skin,
distracted from the wicker basket with lace.
The moving van late and the setting sun,
I found me sitting with his pants undone,
and two people negotiating personal space.
Something about the way he’d strip an apple to the core;
the way he’d lounge on a wooden floor;
as we sat in this unfurnished place.
As he’d kiss me on my mouth with his body undressed;
skin on wood, skin on skin, my hand on his chest;
and his hand resting gently on my face.
Charl Landsberg is a South African poet, writer, artist, and musician. They often do activist work that focusses on feminism, anti-racism, and queer rights