M.J. Young
Contrapuntal For Our First Month Living Together

                       what we do                      in our room
         once the nightlight                      I insist upon
             is switched off is                      in that thick shadow
   like an underpainting.                      we hold each other after.

          you never ask why                      you only see me pray
                        in the dark                     on my knees
           because you know                     the motions of a faith
      you cannot touch yet                     you bear witness to.
             me the man who                      for this dim time
                         belongs to                      a god you doubt
                  a god you fear                      will eclipse you.

              but once I stand                      I will open my eyes
                         & undress                      & come to you.
          I will slip into bed                      beneath the blankets
             & you’ll hold me                      as we lay together
    as I’ll clasp my hands                      not in prayer but
     in your coarse palms                      in some other ritual.

            after I’ll attempt                       to explain
for the hundredth time                       how I see God but
           to paint a picture                      with simple words
                       of my faith                      is an impossibility.
                        like a man                      tasked with
               describing God                      describing love
              I’ll tell the truth.                     I’ll describe you.



__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Image by Cesar Lalangui Eras from Pexels
M.J. Young is a writer and MFA student at Florida International University, where he is a graduate instructor and the Poetry Editor of Gulf Stream Magazine. He's also a poetry reader for Dishsoap Quarterly. His poetry can be found in Ninth Letter, phoebe, The Penn Review, and elsewhere. In his free time he enjoys listening to Philip Glass and exploring bookstores.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

© 2026  Iron Oak Literary
Stay Connected to Our Literary Community.  Subscribe to Our Substack Roots & Words
          Listen: