Photograph, 2008

See the statue: grain flecked
ridged with carvings
the smooth intonations of eyes
set quietly into the face 

            See me: four years old 
            palms to the stone
            and my face tipped slightly forwards
            to kiss the mouth opposite. 
            Our foreheads touch. Even as a child

I knew what love was,
one face fit into the other,
a sort of bracing of the hands
while the bodies found harmony

I didn’t know then,
moving for a mouth  
that refused to yield an inch,
what it wasn’t.

Kit Duke is a queer writer and poet based in Stroud, England. He writes a lot about belonging, in all senses of the word. You can find him on Instagram, @kitduke24, or Substack, @kitduke.