Aubade by Saeed Jones

by Leslie Anne Mcilroy


Two blind-folded men
try to waltz on the tips

of their toes. White shirts
full of breeze,  hands behind

their backs. Polite partners.
The wind calls out each

step and, necks noosed,
they spin. Weak scaffold

creaking as they turn toward
the crowd, heads tilted

at the angle of spasm.
Lover, there is no one left

to tell us who we are
this morning. The bodies,

the bright smiles of the guards,
the men still in bed who hear

that same wind and let it
rake their sleep.


Saeed pic.jpg

Saeed is the editor of BuzzFeed LGBT. His work has appeared in Best Gay Stories 2013, Guernica, Ebony Magazine, The Rumpus, Hayden's Ferry Review and West Branch, among others. Saeed received his MFA in Creative Writing at Rutgers University — Newark. His chapbook When the Only Light is Fire is available from Sibling Rivalry Press and his full-length collection Prelude to Bruise is forthcoming from Coffee House Press. He is the recipient of fellowships from Queer/Arts/Mentors and Cave Canem and recently, a Pushcart Prize for Poetry.