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chromatographics

@chromato.graphics

66 followers 26 following 40 posts

gay poems by @mbbischoff.com more online @ chromato.graphics

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chromatographics @chromato.graphics · 16/09/2026

hinge

door in our place i never open
out of fear and too much want
touch the knob — i am shocked

sounds like a party in there
but where is my invitation?
missing out doesn’t scare me

sometimes, it’s open a crack
scents from the kitchen waft
my favorite dish on the menu

i give up. nothing better to do
splayed on gray wool, rubbing
nothing matches their rhythm

the guests tire, it swings open
streamers and confetti spilling
must be my job to clean ’em up

chromatographics @chromato.graphics · 30/06/2026

photobooth

shoes stick to the floor,
we wander past the bar
into a dim red-lit lounge.
pinball, locked door, you.
you’re a seeing machine.
pull your curtain closed—
shroud us in secrets that
end just above our waist.

tap on a train faregate,
a beep reminds us that
transportation isn’t free,
a short trip still costs us.
you’re a seeing machine.
see what we’re made of.
we’re trapped here now,
we can’t hide from flash.

all whirring and waiting. don’t know how long ‘til
our capture, our release.
we kiss from impatience.
you’re a seeing machine.
our mouths are blurring,
hands in hair, bite marks
in flesh. we have no time.

falling back into the light.
was there music before?
we lean against the box,
we cannot lose contact.
you’re a seeing machine.
you take time to develop.
wait here: a strip will fall.
freeze us in four frames.

chromatographics @chromato.graphics · 04/06/2026

no

do i have to belt you?
to overcome a bubbling
or are my words enough
to staunch the flowing
from leaking fountains

pleasure is never free,
even when it is a gift.
beg me with honeysuckle
pollination. allergies.
only believe in denial.

muscle tension, hunger.
dew’s wetter than rain.
desperate questions tie
barricade tape tighter.
no. a complete sentence

the longer we wait here
clock hands move slowly
waiting, praying on the
dripping limestone tile
a sacrifice in purpose.

release is for the weak
but you are strong, no?
every drop metered out.
are you grasping at it?
there isn’t a shortage.

don’t ask me again, now
you know my answer love
age years in the bottle
our flavor concentrates
only believe in denial.

chromatographics @chromato.graphics · 04/04/2026

dial

two-tone composition
unknown destinations
an operator obsesses
over pickup & hangup

one +1 more connected
than 2. you will. and
the company that will
bring it to you is me

push digits into holes,
keep spinning until you
feel the click in place
switch arms, hands tire

blinking countless lines,
voice carrying fast & far
on continuous copper wire
silence costs us as much—

draw X’s & O’s in octothorps
sleep clutching our handsets
there is so much to exchange
during long-distance calling

chromatographics @chromato.graphics · 20/03/2026

entrapped
by Chroma

meeting a Goddess, sunshine,
envying its divinity & wings

stripping each white feather,
dyeing them all in her blood

sewing souls into mine,
stealing her golden halo

it will never fly again—
riding only in my hand

my fallen angel:
a bruised flower

chromatographics @chromato.graphics · 11/03/2026

violet

your aperture narrows
as f /our voices deepen
sunlight burns through
exposed cloth shutters

we made you to protect
an us we never realized
would be safe as she is
it’s no decorative pansy

darkrooms reveal stains
& splatters under safety
lightbulb, glowing ruby
our eyes don’t adjust yet

we have twins, don’t we?
is it sisters, not twins?
god, no that’s a different
flower entirely — rosemary

chromatographics @chromato.graphics · 23/12/2025

food

a girl’s gotta eat,
grow big & strong
food becomes fuel
fired brick oven

i have reservations,
my seat’s set aside
gin martini stirred—
small coin of lemon

white pressed linens
red leather cushions
polished steel fixtures
scarred marble veins

amuse my palate
gift from the chef
we kindly request:
no sharing allowed

a girl’s gotta eat,
wash away fears
enjoy my choices
wet lips, appetite

taste first with eyes
each flavor distinct:
salt, grit, acid, burn
hungering for it all

the first bite builds
anticipation of more—
a mindless chewing,
my posture softens

i lick your plate clean
it’s been taken care of
have i saved any room?
no, some other time

chromatographics @chromato.graphics · 22/12/2025

atlantic
pacific

i often wake three hours before
your sunrise calls for a response
logbook already soaked with ink
we laugh, but even if we could,
why constrain our outpourings?

one winter day you ask for
notes on undersea strings
aware of both the timbre
and tempo of these songs
we start singing together

i fall into an evening rhythm
talking and yes moaning into
the phonograph, my head then
swallowed by the brassy cone
our voices sound better inside

when you open your ears again
there’s so much weather to hear :
wind and rain and quiet calm that
lasts too long and means too much
we keep sailing even without a map

true, land divides us more than sea,
but these two coasts call to us both
maybe it’s the sirens or the sounds
of wavecrash against the shore —
the dangers of unfathomed depths

chromatographics @chromato.graphics · 22/11/2025

use

craving total transformation,
identity a disposed wrapper.
becoming a vessel for want,
glass poured into, overfilled.

you haven’t been here lately.
something in our combining
always begins this reaction:
photochemical excited state

learning how to spark again—
days ago: gel, pumps, bulbs,
rattling pill bottles and nerves,
black gloves, gold foil, silicone.

it’s warmed up enough already.
don’t ask or guess—just know.
take a part you claim as yours,
shape it to your pleasure. use.

time stutters; the gears grind
forward under prying pressure.
repairing hidden mechanisms,
counting every beat yourself.

disappearing deconstruction:
ripped apart by heat and light,
shredded into a thousand tiny
pieces of steel. shrapnel blast.

there is stillness in oblivion,
peace made in the darkness.
clenched fists, soaked linen.
i swear. i won’t move. i can’t.

chromatographics @chromato.graphics · 16/11/2025

AS 21

if you’re hearing this,
it’s ‘cause i trust you.
there’s a lot of detail,
high resolution scans.

i take an early flight.
nothing good is easy.
what am i forgetting?
chocolate orange peels.

i program on the airplane
to distract from humming
in my eardrums; an engine
whirring to life in my chest.

she applies the night before
risks her body just for more.
she knows she has to see it
before i remember my face.

jetway’s made of glass,
eyes have steel blades.
what am i forgetting?
54-inch red shoelace.

“do you want to get the
fuck out of this airport?”
she picks up both bags
before i can say a word.

she borrows a tapedeck.
i hold her knee. is this ok?
the postal service can’t
ship this in a flat rate box.

distance desires ritual
we find a matchbook
what am i forgetting?
ashen coffee. burning.

the next thing i know
we’re at the terminal.
lipstick can stain more
than cardboard cups

time stopped in total:
14 hours, 28 minutes

chromatographics @chromato.graphics · 05/11/2025

triumph

you outfit us in leather armor
tie boots tight as heartstrings
we dance and breathe as one
enter prisms — offset blinking

INFORMATION GLADLY GIVEN
BUT SAFETY REQUIRES AVOIDING
UNNECESSARY CONVERSATION

underground, understand a halo
grip my thighs below your wings
breathe — you ask “you ready?”
to leave, to ride, to fly. of course.

don’t look down & don’t let go
become part of a red machine:
a bell, a backpack, a balance
gripping tightly, holding loosely

i am not afraid to ride with you
to glide across rock and sound
my pilot is divine, invincible even
molded contours promise safety

PLEASE HOLD ON
SUDDEN STOPS ARE
SOMETIMES NECESSARY

as we swerve, we synchronize
we’re on an island, smiling wide
small compared to a lighthouse
even smaller against your frame

my sister thought she could fall
along the same route we travel
but i know i fell for you already
ache is just what flight feels like

chromatographics @chromato.graphics · 30/10/2025

chromatographics @chromato.graphics · 29/10/2025

wrist

i clocked the watch once
and wished its red hand
swept across your face
i knew i’d want the date

i saw the toy’s hallmark
that predates its maker
cupid’s bow pointillism
it looked best in color

i slipped on a staircase
tripped on slippery oak
fell into a concrete pool
cut and bruised joints

you caught me there
held me—rubbed salt
into my fresh wounds
to heal and to hurt me

a thin black strap is all
that holds back the sun
when this camera falls
it’ll leak light forever

three solid bands form
an unbroken bracelet
brass never gleamed
until becoming a label

holding mine down
against white silk,
gray wool, graffiti
it’s easy to go deep

chromatographics @chromato.graphics · 07/10/2025

bonfire

we spin on turntables
gift-wrapped bubbles
plotting high treason

one query hangs on
a hook near my thigh
“how do you want to feel?”

you produce three words
two supple, one sharp
relaxed. caregiven. surrender.

we better not have another
handle’s cold to the touch
i hold your hand for warmth

fetching a towel and water
unfamiliar closet and faucet
you aren’t used to this, are you?

inside these walls, a forest
i lead you down the worn path
to a fire blazing at the center

it’s just us dancing there—
adjust angles, rhyme rhythms
dig holes with feet and fingers

you haven’t visited in years
moonlight in an empty room
i’ve never been, but will again

draw maps into memory
twist silver, pink, and blue
the way back is circular

chromatographics @chromato.graphics · 25/09/2025

i’m sorry i bumped into you.
i thought you were a mirror.
your clear surface showed
what they saw of me then.

parties are meant for diffusion,
but we focused instead.
twisting the lens to almost
make out what was there.

i’m sorry i couldn’t touch you.
i thought you were a mirror.
i feared leaving greasy prints
for everyone to see.

museums of mailboxes and phones
reveal past and future connections.
a present—
behind smudged display glass.

i’m sorry you didn’t see me
waving at you in the city.

i thought you were a mirror.
you weren’t yet waving back.

being gay is hard sometimes.
hotel bathrooms get steamy,
you can’t always get the right angle
before the image blurs.

i’m sorry we were interrupted.
i thought you were a mirror.
i never dreamed anyone would
walk through it and shatter the glass.

i need to move but i can’t sleep.
some things aren’t done yet.
i’m hiding from sunrise, from men,
under blankets and cardboard towers.

i’m sorry i looked so long.
i knew you were a mirror,
but i couldn’t spot the vanishing point.
some reflections distort; yours perfects.

chromatographics @chromato.graphics · 21/09/2025

incision

half decade wishes:
a leveling out.
forbidden kisses
the right choice, no doubt

central park consult
king cole martini
review old results
discard bikinis

photograph the curves
archives in high gloss
the things i preserve,
they’ll surely just toss

day before phone calls
rage at the system
its stops, starts, & stalls
need to assist him

sleep, holding a heart
cleanse every surface
wrong name on the chart
of course you deserve this

wave as the doors close
don’t use the “b” word
eat eggs as you doze
the artwork looks blurred

a husband’s phone rings
let me inside there
treat you like a king
hold cups as your care

bumpy ride that night
late rooftop phone call
two beams of bright light
never forget fall

a week goes by fast
managing your pain
see yourself at last
straight scars and no drain

i cry more than you do
it hits me deeply
this thing that you choose
didn’t come cheaply

a body transformed
like overnight oats
years since your plans formed
i’ll keep taking notes

chromatographics @chromato.graphics · 09/09/2025

readwrite

have you ever
had a girl cause
engineering
just for it, though

weeks of design
on a one-off
built for the thing —
to program it

on the airplane
commit to it:
make it perfect,
then install it

when you get there,
show it slowly
touch a curved shape
feel its edges

unarchive it
press it with force
watch it open,
animated

every app must
have its settings
even if they
never vary

have you ever
caused a toy to
glow from within
white light blinking

when you read it
you can see it:
why it matters,
what you’ll put there

have you ever
caused a thing to
strip itself bare
kernel panic!

this will only
take a second,
last a lifetime
deep within you

type it all out
hold it down now
your domain, name
hit the button

have you ever
felt an object
as it’s written
becoming yours

chromatographics @chromato.graphics · 26/08/2025

poison

black bottle kept
just out of reach
of those who fear
my obsidian liquid

a toxicology report:
deadly in large doses
but taken with care
the hurting heals us

sure, share a nightcap
wince with me in pain
we need this to sting
no easier, knowing it

small sips are sweet
deeper drinks, bitter
stone fruit can’t mask
a burning this intense

scared to let you see
me like this — red eyes
pierce pewter framing
you want, no, need to

as the spirit fully hits
there’s no stopping this
drink.
the cork is broken now

chromatographics @chromato.graphics · 21/08/2025

steps

now please, sit back
stretch out your legs
relax awhile —
furniture begs

pull off your boots
i’ll kneel below
slip off your socks
and take it slow

bare both your soles
flex all ten toes
your footstool’s goal:
to be repose

our arches meet —
my back, your curve
almost so much
i don’t deserve

a faint perfume
teases my nose
the smoothest skin
so rarely shows

i’ll work them deep
with oiled hands
their perfect forms
each digit fanned

red lacquered nails
command my eyes
and higher heels
you’ve made me buy

bare, they stay – no
decoration
focus trained on
adoration

pressed on my face
i’ll kiss you there
and lick the base
become ensnared

kick or trample
i’ll take the pain
with shoes sampled
my body strains

pleads for pressure
that space between —
the greatest pleasure:
touch from the queen

release the jewels
that flood within
wetness pools
on shining skin

chromatographics @chromato.graphics · 17/08/2025

camcorder

twentysomething object
built to take a beating—
recording blurry scenes
to wound cassette tapes.

humming with precision
opening up when pressed
her red button worndown
by many careless owners.

secondhand machine with
new ways of seeing inside
freezing a frame when it
can’t take this much in…

an observation device for
triangular dynamics that
separate signal and static
projecting what is actual.

a new lease on life from
repairs to its internals,
charging, maintenance, &
importantly: regular use.

chromatographics @chromato.graphics · 16/08/2025

gender.app

pull out my phone
tap on the app
needs to update…
they always do

new gradient
same icon shape
wide colorspace
hard to adjust

why do we all
want to shapeshift?
to be seen through
filters we make

on the G train
dark grey sweatshirt
black leather boots
riding crosstown

slider tempts me—
drag it slowly
no one else stares
they just don’t care

this is my stop:
girl in red dress
heels to match her
lipstick and tits

costume changes
inside closets
infinite fits
incoherence

it’s not just me,
everyone plays
gender’s this game’s
in-app purchase

micro actions
& transactions
never enough
to fill the space

if i’m always
searching for it,
the right setting,
flipping through them

will i know when
i have nailed it?
new release notes:
patches the bugs

what if i’m stuck
inside a loop?
keep it running
there’s no kill switch

chromatographics @chromato.graphics · 14/08/2025

eigengrau

the only way to ignore
the sunrise is to close
our eyes at daybreak

white light pours through
delicate curtain lace—
an unseen ocean roiling

more to see and to say
as blue waves beckon,
calling toward tomorrow

but no matter what we try,
there’s no true darkness.
light seeps in everywhere

the shade we find there
feels almost ultraviolet;
we see it together, apart

in separate beds, rooms
on opposed coasts, we
conjure the same cosmos

this color could be our own.
when other lovers see it too,
do they know we bathe in it?

chromatographics @chromato.graphics · 13/08/2025

108°C

sunny side up eggs
cook with sunshine
denaturation begs,
bonds across time

waveformed Q train
park date prospects
PascalCase names
everywhere object

polycarbonate layers
exposed gold livewire
angel of gay prayers
film stock, unexpired

bumblebee chapstick
seeing in rainbows
jet turbine fuel drips
one port won’t close

chromatographics @chromato.graphics · 13/08/2025

nude

back then, i saw your body just on screens—
pinpricks of light transferred across the line.
soft curves and folds, i felt you in my dreams;
those pictures, now, are burned into my mind.

and then i touched your silken skin at last,
traced these lines with red ink until they dripped,
gripped thighs while kissing slow, then hard and fast,
embraced to warm the places you had stripped.

but now i’m separated from your touch,
yearning for the ways we fit, like jigsaw
pieces you never need to force too much.
despite it all : i’m here. i won’t withdraw.

you’re nude before my eyes, no matter where.
i’ll drink you up and leave them none to spare.

chromatographics @chromato.graphics · 11/08/2025

a⸺part

thin string between us
stretching miles
connecting our chests

tension we can sense
tugging twine
winding over land

we set it aside
knotted tight
when we’re together

the rope uniting us
untying now
because we’re home

we don’t need help
to touch
when we’re here

chromatographics @chromato.graphics · 11/08/2025

ftl

random chance meeting
sweater that shimmers
parties are fleeting
your glances glimmer

post selfies in slack
our dms vanish
a coffee date ask
making a plan-ish?

calls about lost work
texts about gender
watching your lil’ smirk
my heart grows tender

shopping for red skirts
sharing a small lunch
enjoying my quirks
i’m having a hunch…

flirting a little
to see if it sticks
too noncommittal?
or does it just click

late night at a show
we let our legs brush
at the bar i chose,
you admit your crush

a ride to your place
the tension growing
sharing a small space
finally knowing

nervously waiting
for you to arrive
fuck, now we’re dating.
we instantly vibe

chromatographics @chromato.graphics · 09/08/2025

t4t

i read that things used to be different for us. that we used to hide behind heavy coats, from ourselves. i read that we’d get compared to cigarettes on the street in broad daylight just for walking the wrong way. things are different for us now. not because we are the majority, but because we are not, and we know that. our difference is our value.

things changed because seasons did. the old trees that once ruled the forest have fallen, been subsumed into the soil. things changed because our elders fought for us and their enemies dwindled. life is no less complicated here and now. it may be more so. but that complexity, that intricacy, that is part of what makes this worth it.

i went on a date yesterday. they had two faces and three names. his lips felt like safety and possibility and becoming. we didn’t need to connect our brains with wires to see. we spoke the same language, we knew the same songs. our bodies united like an antique lock and key, lubricated with the oil of our passion. i want more. no, i need it.

all my friends are trans. i broke up with the ones who weren’t.
they understood.

change is good. the people that don’t get that will never get us. not all change is for the better, but the potential for growth and for flourishing is all we have. the possibility that tomorrow will be a new day with new rules. and that we’ll be here for each other when it arrives. that we’ll nurture the seeds and each other. that we can.

chromatographics @chromato.graphics · 08/08/2025

just use mine

he’s wanted one, i think, a while
still growing his, it takes its time
i wonder: why not just use mine?

our parts are modular by design
they’re aftermarket optimized
hot-swappable and still divine

then i’m above and he’s below
press into him, extend a loan
tell him: touch, like it’s your own

he strokes it like a precious gift
he must be worried, he’ll miss it
the gratitude vibrates his wrist

he shakes as need remaps the mind
and both our systems intertwine
we once mistake his flesh for mine

i ask him softly if it was good
he nods like i rewound the world
we had made what no one could

chromatographics @chromato.graphics · 07/08/2025

poke

door opens— am i the fool?
gloves snap, now i’m playing my role
unstained steel tray cradles your tools
you wash me clean, i cede control

you sketch small leaves in purple ink
i play with you, this is our game
when it’s all done, what will they think?
art, artist, work— all share a name

calmly you ask “ready for stabs?”
there’s not a way for me to know
is this your temple or your lab?
we share one breath, it’s time to go

your sword and your eyes penetrate
music and pain blanket my brain
sometimes we should disregulate
questions pour out, blood from a vein

hours pass as you make passes
pricks turn into private pleasure
when we are through, our flesh collapses
every mark is made forever

chromatographics @chromato.graphics · 06/08/2025

you ask me if i’m okay
⸻ with elevators?
which strikes me odd,
the way your eyes do

we board & take flight
to the control room, 42
teacups on brass hooks
carefully cluttered views

press my buttons, down
with the same force you
use to operate machines.
the right pressure matters

the doors close around
your fingers, lights flicker
surging harnessed power
i can’t look away, i won’t

we fall together back to
earth where we stumble
into your unmarked van.
click of clear recognition

the next time i step into
your cage you kiss my
eyes closed and pull a
lever
          that
      stops
                             time

we’re suspended⸺ trapped
in moments of wrought iron
pressed against their grates
and each other’s full frames

             for as long
             as we are,
             we get to
             be happy

chromatographics @chromato.graphics · 05/08/2025

stick

winter cherry, lush
pressed to the pane :
clear swirling glass,
vessels for grapes

red print attracts
gazes from gays
strange artifacts
mouths go astray

first contact lasts
longer than stains
washed away fast —
much like our brains

they always say
lips that disguise
can’t be the way,
but never the why

shouldn’t we just
paint what we feel
even if lips must
become the meal

chromatographics @chromato.graphics · 04/08/2025

“in your
ideal world,
what does
the future
of gender
look like?”

gender abolition
pronoun coronation
human elocution
border dissolution

frequent faggotry
gorgeous gayety

sacred impiety
campy pageantry

constant questioning
mutual strengthening

boundary trespassing
differents welcoming

chromatographics @chromato.graphics · 03/08/2025

bioavailable

there’s always a question
when i come into contact
with the substance of you.

how much of you can i absorb?
when you enter my bloodstream,
swim my veins where they lead.

the longer your half-life,
the more i’ll feel you there,
coursing through my core.

the closer your shape
gets to nature, the better
i can fully take you in.

drink you or swallow you
or let you dissolve under
my tongue every day as

you transform me with
area under your curves.
when is my next dose?

chromatographics @chromato.graphics · 31/07/2025

accident(ily)

one fifty-four
is not the hour
to send texts,
no autocorrect

risky confessions
clipped affections
dimmed i love you’s
from neon rooms

could be a typo
should i just lol
or say her name,
reply the same?

an oops can’t erase
the thrumming bass
as juniper slips
from her bruised lips

tripping on her tongue
fuck. uhh. drunk. umm.
not that
not yet

or at least —
not like this