All the Boys I’ve Dated – By Inny Taylor

poem by Inny Taylor
image by Alejandro Corredor

Happy hour;
The most surreal hour.
One more,
The one that broke the camel’s back,
They all come flooding back.

Nostalgia smells:
Saturday temple
Tie-dyed paint on freckled skin
Talk of transsex on the roof
My memory gate is opened.

He wrote a letter
To her
About me
He said:
At first he didn’t
Then he did
And then we both moved on.
He was my first.
Parkslope Kissing,
Lower East Side tension,
Last I heard he moved to Williamsburg
After that I never knew.
Come winter
He sang prayers I couldn’t understand
In front of candles
I wanted to make a wish on
And blow out.

Big, blue question mark eyes;
Texas dances across my New York City mind.
One month too long;
One month too short.
He was beautiful and healthy,
Healthy and young
Enough to do it
And then do it again.
Bedstuy piggyback rode
Eight blocks back
But not to my home
And it wasn’t really his
Just to prove a point
He won.

Cigarettes and thick, mad-sounding accents.
“Stop yelling at me.”
“I’m not yelling.” he would say.
Olive skin and camera flashes.
When someone sees these I’m going to be famous;
I’m going to be remembered.
I think he is a little bit gay;
He thinks he is a little bit gay.
It wasn’t only years,
But it always was the years,
He could almost be my father.
Montauk where we carved our names into each other’s hearts;
Forgive me I was only twenty-two.

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