i send my assembly-line boy back:

reset his factory settings, my hands remember how he likes it

wipe his rosy cheeks, flick his pink nipples one last time

commit his little moans to memory, his blue eyes glowing with promise

take his box out of storage, a hasbro grave,

geoffrey’s gone like god & good fortune

admire his bulging cow eyes & long lean legs, achingly beautiful smoothness

straighten his white shirt, lower him into the abyss

lay packing peanuts on him (there’s a penis joke here),

make sure the plastic isn’t suffocating

i’ll miss him, i’m sure

but summer’s coming,

& doesn’t it just eat at you when a boy is too perfect?

– Michael Chang