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Voyeur

I cut my foreskin with my sewing scissors
and buried it in the backyard. I watered it for days
until another boy that looked just like me
clawed out of the earth’s womb.

I inspected him carefully,
tracing his cherry red lips with my tongue,
biting his bubblegum pink nipples until they bruised
and he moaned. I placed him on all fours over the warm moss
and spread his furry cheeks—
his scent, just like mine!

You have to be sweet
like sun-warmed honey,
that’s what daddy says.

I dressed him in a red riding hood
and guided him through the forest until
we found a clearing
plunged in shadows.
I poured the red on the ground,
staining my fingers,
and placed the boy face down
ass up.

Soon,
the wolves came sniffing—

Voyeur

Me corté el prepucio con las tijeras de costura
y fui a enterrarlo al patio donde por días regué
en secreto hasta que del vientre de la tierra
nació otro chico
idéntico a mí.

Lo inspeccioné detenidamente.
Probé el rojo de sus labios con mi lengua,
el suave rosa de sus pezones entre mis dientes
hasta escucharlo gemir. Lo puse en cuatro sobre el musgo
y separé la negra jungla de sus nalgas;
¡olía igual a mí!

Tienes que ser dulce como la miel
eso dice papá.

Lo vestí con una capa roja y nada más
y lo guie de la mano hasta el centro del bosque
donde encontramos un claro sumido en sombras.
Vertí la capa en el suelo, mis dedos besados de rojo,
y lo ayudé a recostarse
bocabajo.

Muy pronto, de entre los arbustos,
vi salir los lobos
olisqueando el aire.

[Editor’s Note: Publication of this poem was made possible by a gift from Roger C. Walker II during our annual Kickstarter.]



E. N. Díaz (México, 1995) is a bilingual short story writer and poet. Their writings have appeared in Clarkesworld Magazine, The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, BULL Magazine, and the blog Jóvenes en la Revista by the Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México.
Current Issue
29 Apr 2024

The Lightning Road cuts far across the Cosmos, a streak of dazzling gold amidst the star-studded void.
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The thing is; I don’t set out to write neurodivergent characters. I write people – fictional people who are drawn from the people around me, the way I experience the world, and my understanding of these experiences. Too bad if other people refuse to afford my experiences as being real or relatable.
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