Fuck-It List
After Kirby

The sex that started as dessert-after-dinner and went into the rise of morning

The day when the tally doubled down on the box spring

The time(s) in the backseat of the Ford Explorer dipping into sex with finger with tongue with the hunger for a better position

The moment handcuffs snap overhead the cheap kind slipping around neck and off wrists

The empty house your nephew’s bottom bunk listening for keys the door vibrator muffled under the comforter

“No one’s going to see” heard in the front seats at The Turning (2020)

The William Small Centre bathroom heat left behind on the wall next to the tampon dispenser

Time we came close at the Horseshoe Tavern

Driving 130km on the 401 eyes on the road hand off the wheel

The sex we would have had on the balcony 14 floors high over Mississauga’s center

The sex you wanted at the drive-in and the sex I wanted in a canoe

The ones on the list you will seek with someone else the lengths never reached between us

The places never checked off the spots yearning still to be filled with edge with sweat with love with drive

Sarah Hilton is a queer poet from Scarborough, whose work examines the deconstruction of bodily reclamation, familial trauma, and the nostalgia of home. Her work is currently featured or forthcoming in Hart House Review, Feels Zine, FEEL WAYS: A Scarborough Anthology, CV2, Ithaca Lit, and elsewhere. She is beginning a Master of Information at the University of Toronto in Fall 2020, and is currently compiling a collection of poetry.