by Inez Tan
That what I seek in sex
would not be found in sex
That I would come closer
to landing the longer I fell
That I would not die
until I’d been everyone I was supposed to
That fear was a rumor
that could make itself come true
That some words
are stillborn
while others emerge wet and shuddering
with each new breath
what is happening
and how was I so wrong
that even now I could be ready
to draw back
from the recognition
that you and I were meant
to be here
sharing this creaking wooden bench
crying I felt you
sit down next to me
never would have seen you otherwise
a nondescript man in ordinary clothes
never would have believed that I’d welcome 
a stranger’s hand on my back
that becoming vulnerable to you
is safer than remaining alone.