May 2020
She wipes my taste from her lips and says “you can’t be queer at work.
It’s not professional.“
She doesn’t think that it is okay to wear your whole self to work if it is not straight passing
talking about straightness is reasonable
But bring your gayness to work day never comes
It is a storm that I hear every season, but this time I am caught out in it without shelter, hail pelted on soft petals barely open.
She doesn’t look queer
she is a woman
she looks like Helen who was loved by all,
tan and toned
from looking out over the ocean and lifting her beauty up on slight shoulders
If it was unprofessional to be straight
or to use pronouns at all,
I would understand.
If we only used each other’s names
and I was asking for more
or special dispensation
I would understand
she says she doesn’t understand
why I need to announce on glittered skin and lips that I so proud of who I am
Why I need to brag with rainbow eyes and clothes
My Blooming to her is rising higher than I deserve
But I am not Icarus with waxy wings plummeting plumes and
mans mistake of highest hubris
I am asking for you to see me as I am
Not what you have assumed that I was
When I painted her with rainbows and kissed her in the dark
she saw every inch of me
intimacy that only the moonlight knows
She accepted me then, fleeting as that night was
Then she scrubbed my kiss away before anyone that mattered could see
Stripped off my borrowed rainbows
Dressed in unassuming pastels
Seated comfortable in a chevrolet status quo
she drove home to her Barbie dream house
Kissed her fiancé Ken
He tightened his arm around her the next time I saw them, pulling rank
I am only for the moonlight
Demeter welcomes her with open arms
In this world they have never parted.
She is Persephone who did not eat the seeds and queerness is Hades, she only vacations here
I plunged my teeth into that’ fruit before I knew what queer was, I ****** down enough seeds to keep me Cerberus
Walking among the rest of the world wanting to belong, but standing out like I have three heads.
It’s not professional.“
She doesn’t think that it is okay to wear your whole self to work if it is not straight passing
talking about straightness is reasonable
But bring your gayness to work day never comes
It is a storm that I hear every season, but this time I am caught out in it without shelter, hail pelted on soft petals barely open.
She doesn’t look queer
she is a woman
she looks like Helen who was loved by all,
tan and toned
from looking out over the ocean and lifting her beauty up on slight shoulders
If it was unprofessional to be straight
or to use pronouns at all,
I would understand.
If we only used each other’s names
and I was asking for more
or special dispensation
I would understand
she says she doesn’t understand
why I need to announce on glittered skin and lips that I so proud of who I am
Why I need to brag with rainbow eyes and clothes
My Blooming to her is rising higher than I deserve
But I am not Icarus with waxy wings plummeting plumes and
mans mistake of highest hubris
I am asking for you to see me as I am
Not what you have assumed that I was
When I painted her with rainbows and kissed her in the dark
she saw every inch of me
intimacy that only the moonlight knows
She accepted me then, fleeting as that night was
Then she scrubbed my kiss away before anyone that mattered could see
Stripped off my borrowed rainbows
Dressed in unassuming pastels
Seated comfortable in a chevrolet status quo
she drove home to her Barbie dream house
Kissed her fiancé Ken
He tightened his arm around her the next time I saw them, pulling rank
I am only for the moonlight
Demeter welcomes her with open arms
In this world they have never parted.
She is Persephone who did not eat the seeds and queerness is Hades, she only vacations here
I plunged my teeth into that’ fruit before I knew what queer was, I ****** down enough seeds to keep me Cerberus
Walking among the rest of the world wanting to belong, but standing out like I have three heads.
