Southern Hospitality

                                        < Issue 2 >

Southern Hospitality
      by Danez Smith


your feet tired, I know
you been escaping since your first 
crawl into symmetric skin. 
this body is a safe house. 
come drink, you look thirsty.
I set aside a few jars of my blood
let it ferment till sweet
till plum, salt, and ash marry on your tongue
Hungry? I have a little fat back
gravy dripping from parts
I forgot you could taste
I threw my bones
in with the mustards and beans
My heart’s already battered
so I fried it up with some onions and gizzards
would you like some?	

come on in, I can turn this twin mattress
into paradise while you blink or breathe
everything your body wants here is natural 
licks timely as heartflicker, as drum
come on, I have all the music and reefer
a man can crave. Come rest
on my tongue. I know how to gorge
how to make this throat sing 
and clog. I know how to swallow
and bury. come, join this bashful graveyard.
My throat stays crowded with ghost
too shamed to look at each other.
Don’t worry, your secret is safe
in this stomach, the lord’s judgment no match
for bile and spit. you know how many men have died
in my mouth? You know they call it heaven?

hell of a sin, isn’t it?
ancient as the battle between salvation
and flesh, but don’t worry about that war here,
I’ve built this skin into a closet, stuffed
with everything good you need. 
Come in, I got teeth and nails 
stashed in the other room, there is nothing here
to mark you, just come
until you can’t. Leave God 
for Sundays. lay here
in my mouth. come 
lay your burden down.
fill my belly up.