I remember the morning Tuesday was invented— how gleeful we sang across the streets— forgetting that the day after tomorrow would be Thor’s day and that one we didn’t own, too.
I remember the bathroom stalls, the sins of Leviticus we survived comforting our confusion with the indulgence that God too love man, kind.
Let the purgatory full of half good men sing about their sins with pride and laugh at the moons and stars for being without limbs and tongues to protest their innocence and Idontgiveadamnisms;
For I remember being fed the tenets of heterosexual history in elementary school yet wondering why queer gods are the ones named after the planets.
In the loving memory of David Kato Kisule (c. 1964 – January 26, 2011) *If We Keep On Hiding Away, They Will Say We Are Not Here*