Young People

Richie Hofmann

He was stirring coffee in his workout clothes.

I wanted to swallow him,

Coffee black in my stomach.

The sun was moving in the glass of buildings.

He was sweating, he was late.

I was suffering from beauty,

Thirstiest in the morning,

Sleeping in my T-shirt with stiff yellow armpits.

His belly was so warm.

He knew my name.

I could taste almonds in his mouth.

Tell me I own you, Richie.

Don’t forget it.

The hours we didn’t do anything

But sit on the floor in silence:

Nothing more erotic than being in the same room

Not interacting—

Reading different articles,

Our minds elsewhere,

The sky becoming white then black,

That submissive sleep

On the bed I gave to

My friend’s sister when I moved.

Richie Hofmann is the author of the poetry collections Second Empire and A Hundred Lovers.
Originally published:
April 17, 2024


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