Zia Ravenscroft
pillow prince
i am going to buy an emerald-green collar stamped ‘precious stone’ so everybody
who wants to slip their fingers between my neck and the fruit leather has to read it first.
what do you do in bed? well, i keep my pearl-beaded pansy bracelet on my right wrist
and recite leslie feinberg from memory. i order endless charlie chaplin cocktails and ask
you to pour them into my waiting mouth. you could tear the apricot apart membrane by
membrane.
what do you do in bed? i tell you how to reapply my lip gloss and i leave scarlet lacquer
on each glass stitch of your skin. i wear a crown so jewel-encrusted i need to keep my
hair in the pillows where i can count the threads. you will miracle at how shiny the
blond clasped in your fist is.
what do you do in bed? i ripen and blush like the display of summer nectarines at the
supermarket. i spit cherry pits onto palms and stain thighs knotted. i turn my flesh into
the first plum of the season and become more bitemark than boy. i
fall into touch under hands that hunger and muscular. i
will use mine to pull you closer.
Zia Ravenscroft is a trans and queer writer, actor, and drag king currently studying in Te-Whanganui-a-Tara. He has been published in Cordite, The Spinoff, and bad apple among others. They like writing about boys and bodies and boys’ bodies.