piranha feeding time

i am so eager to meet you.
we've been texting for weeks.
i send you pictures of my body:
pale in the dim light of my dorm room.
the curve of a thigh. legs open.
here is my chest. i am 
a special kind of delectable boy.
do you like girls? do you like boys?
where do you keep you mouth?
at the aquarium with my family,
i am trying to pretend i'm not sexting.
we stand around the touch tank
& i reach for a starfish. 
cool water. a single sting ray
circling, staying away from our fingers.
the last boy i messaged fell away.
less & less responses on the app.
he never gave me a picture but he said
"i want a boy like you i always have."
there should be more sharks here.
we look at the quiet octopus 
& she stares back at us. 
my brother admits he is scared
of the ocean. everything is blue:
walls, floor, lights. i am worried
this is just a game to you--
that tomorrow you will be bored
& moved on to another meat.
will you drive to find me
in this deep dark water? 
finally, at the piranha tank
we get to see them feed. 
their thrashing. their need.
blood in the water. all the piranha eyes
like little earrings glinting
in the pool. i imagine them in their 
natural world. dense forest.
rushing amazon river. you ask me
what i'm doing & i say i'm waiting
for you. you say "another picture?"
& i say i am in the amazon right now
but i go to the bathroom
& take just one. neon light.
strange shadows. in my pictures
my body is not my body 
but maybe just blood & aesthetics.
a cloud of piranha taking bits
of my skin. piece by piece.
you say, "yes that's so hot
you're in public." a glass tank
rises around me. i join my family again
& we linger at the piranha tank
a little longer. the fish glance
at us with curiosity 
or disdain. i know you won't come.
my phone vibrates again 
against my thigh pocket.

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