A love poem, written by one who has
never fallen in love.
No one I know has died
either. Does that even out? No gain, no loss.
I still murmur Catullus: I don’t know, but I feel it
happening to me and I’m burning up.
The first time I kissed a boy, his television
was on ESPN, playing a live match. I don’t remember
what sport. The first time I kissed a girl
I tasted the wet give of her (your)
mouth, dense ash. I don’t love
my lovers, I don’t like my crushes.
It’s all terribly inefficient.
I saw two birds entwined under
a traffic light and I thought:
mating. Then I saw it was a falcon
holding down a pigeon. A car
startled them and they soared away
Sue Hyon Bae is an MFA candidate at Arizona State University. She grew up in South Korea, Malaysia, and Texas. Her work has appeared in Spires, Silver Birch Press, Please Hold Magazine, and others.