james rabon

A Divorced Father Having An Affair During a Weekend at the Beach

Your boy watched you as you stood in the mirror and
You felt pain every inch you moved.
You wobble to your reflection to stare
At the peeling red skin, hanging off of you.

You had allowed yourself
To feel the brisk kiss of the sun.
Your son’s laughter resembles the foamy tide
As it climbs and up and down the damp shore.

You became the sun,
A bulbous mass of light;
Furious light, soon oozing out of you
Like the pop of a small water balloon,

Or your passion upon another man
with bright green trunks
And the five dollar shades
You bought at the gift shop down the road.

But you grew blind,
And now divorced,
You had embraced this man, stuck to him,
And now you embraced your son.

You knew you would do it again,
You needed the comfort of being
held by another man. Something you haven’t felt
Since you were once your father’s son.

His coarse hair
Plastered across his chest
Your head resting upon it
Listening to his asynchronous heart.

You knew you would do it again,
Only your father is no longer.
He is an icarus, long forgotten
And exploring his own.

You are becoming your father’s son
The more and more you think of him
And act like him.
Your son begins to mirror you.

Like yesterday, you sat under the thirty-dollar umbrella and
Watched your boy as he began to cover himself in sand
To mimic warmth wrapped around him and
Holding him down; suffocating him as he smiled.

You never shone
As brightly as your son, though.
To feel a new skin,
Similar to the one you want to leave

Right now as you stare
At your body; red and peeling,
You would do anything. You feel reptilian.
It hurts to see yourself like this.

But you would do it all again,
Impatient as the son you are,
And your son screaming,
Look at me! Look at me!


James Rabon (he/they) is a 6″1 non-binary finery that sometime can shapeshift into a bean bag chair or a DJUNGELSKOG from IKEA. he believes that every person has a voice, and no matter their background, deserve a platform. Cookies are better than any other form of dessert, and buttered popcorn is the only acceptable form of popcorn. their favorite poets are Rachel Wiley, Danez Smith, and Chessy Normile. this is his first publication