TR Poulson

Venn Diagrams


A circle, labeled canines, shaded
blue, will always hold smaller
ones inside. The wolves
in midnight, dogs in sky, so close
the two might touch. But what about
chasers and chased? In dating apps,
rings mingle like drops of paint. Blood
red
and sea foam dance to make
dessert. I archive sent emails, wreck
my ghosts. I Venn what matters
most: men I like, and men
who like me. I return to touch
the gap between the spheres.
It burns.