gospel: lake geneva by Jessicamarie Wermes

i have found blood boils behind the cold of a zipper. the peel of skin and salt, bared free to the dark of the sticky night. he traced his fingers tentatively up my arm, the sigh in a soft moan. my mouth full of a question never asked. hunger, a ripe fruit staining our knowledge of the other.

we spent the afternoon lips slick with want, how it flavored every word said. tasted of blue moon ice cream, chocolate beer and spiced honey. i stood dripping lake water into a puddle as his eyes searched the brief body i could lend him. the distraction i was willing to give him. 

and i wonder if i swallow the good in every man, will i know the bad when it rots on my tongue. his baptism of spit laced with mango weed smoke, no place holier than the gravel of a parking lot. 

then i ask, how deep do your sins go and do you like the feel of them in the back of my throat.

Jessicamarie Wermes is a queer poet, who has been writing for as long as she can remember, whether it be short stories, song lyrics or poetry. She hopes that her written words can inspire and comfort others, so that readers may feel a little less alone. She has one published book, through Bookleaf Publishing Company, an anthology named Cicadas in the Belly. Her poem [detangle] won an honorable mention in October Project’s writing contest. She has been published by seven literary magazines, Eunoia Review and Death Wish Poetry, Creation and Tension Literary, to name a few. And she has performed several of her works at slam poetry events and open mic nights.

© 2025 Jessicamarie Wermes. All rights reserved.

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