Harvest by Allen Means
when i kiss someone i imagine pressing them into a surface like water
Harvest
by Allen Means1
my father stops calling me honey because boys are not sweet they are gravel spilling out of open mouths on the playground and when i start looking more and more like a man, he begins to trip over the gravel that he imagines has grown into bigger and more dangerous rocks that if he comes too close may crush something inside him instead but i was never the kind of boy that ate gravel or threw rocks i watched how honeysuckle grew on backyard fences and the brick walls of public pool houses and in the summer i would sit in the shade and pluck them tuck them into mickey mouse beach towels tied into baskets or leave them for safe-keeping in another kid’s hair like presents or secrets but now that i am a man— when i kiss someone i imagine pressing them into a surface like water picking a honeysuckle from above their head and pressing the wet end into their mouth like a cigarette assuring them that they can also be gentle and sweet in case no one ever did.
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First published in Sweet Lit, April 1, 2025.
A beautiful piece
Love how this challenges the stereotypes of a father son relationship without sounding like it has an agenda