"Playing Tryster Outside" by Zebulon Huset

Playing Tryster Outside

Your nails like nails
my back the chalkboard.

The chalkboard bleeding
into the fallen fall leaves
crumbling dank & brown.

I swallowed the moon
and it tasted of tongue:
salty — spongy and muscly.

We dissolved into smudges
of color then just bubbles.

The extent of existence
popping with our presence
then returning to stillness.

Zebulon Huset

Zebulon Huset is a teacher, writer and photographer living in San Diego. He won the Gulf Stream 2020 Summer Poetry Contest and his writing has appeared in Meridian, The Southern Review, Fence, Atlanta Review, and Texas Review among others. He publishes the writing blog Notebooking Daily, edits the journals Coastal Shelf and Sparked, and recommends literary journals at TheSubmissionWizard.com

Headshot: Jessica Tyson Huset

Photo Credit: Staff