Liberation

Where does your exhale end
and my gasp for air begin?
Dawn's about to burst open,
and I'm uncertain who is me.
Our love in water color,
we bleed together until I'm lost,
until this picture is confusing.
I feel safe in this space,
because how could you leave it?

Imprints

When it's cold
I like to press the warmth
from my fingertips on to
the windows, I like to watch
as they fade slowly from view.
It is like I was never there.
This morning you turned to me,
and I pressed my warmth on
your lightly closed lips,
and I watched my fingertips fade.

Your Truths

I woke up
tracing the lines on you,
your face, without the knowledge of
how they got there.
You are new
to me, and I to you,
but we're old, a body of experiences.
How many suns exactly
have I let graze this skin?
And what's the damage?
How many moons have you
looked up to, how many times
have you wondered?
What were your answers?
Your face is so new
to me.

Your Eyes

I like your eyes,
how they shimmer when you laugh,
like they're laughing.
I like your eyes,
how they gloss with wine,
how they give you away.
I like your eyes,
how they meet mine assertively,
like hunter and a doe.
I like your eyes,
how soft they are with hopefulness,
how they never seem expecting,
how wide they are with fearlessness,
how they're taking but they're giving.
I like your eyes.

I Want You Slow

I want it slow.
I want you slow,
slow and natural.
I want you to do all those things
that are you in the actual.
I want afternoon sun through half open shades,
I want it slow and never to fade.
I want it like that breeze in the night,
grazing my cheek and holding me tight.
I want this motion to be long and slow,
not just for me but so that the world could know
it's natural.

Say the Word Faggot

We have all been in that place of fear, the place where our very identity is used against us. We can all remember the physical reaction a verbal assault can have on our body, especially a young, defenseless one. It is as a group that we heard your dad call out to you in the unthinkable, it was all of us whose face got red and whose stomach ached with swelling tears. I know it was every single one of you that heard that boy on my school bus taunt me. "Hey faggot! We should beat the shit out of this gay faggot." And, I know that you all felt the same searing pain in the back of your head that I did.
"Faggot" is a word that I went years without hearing. Though it was so prevelent in my early teens and throughout my grade school experience, I hadn't experienced  severe hate speech in high school. So, it was a surprise to me when I was launched into the middle of so many homosexual men in college, who were using the term at liberty.
I was sitting in the Music Building at Ole Miss when I heard it for the first time. An extremely effeminate friend shouted it down a hallway to me, across several different people heads. "Hey FAGGOTS, wait up!" The word stopped me dead, filling my chest with hot air, and widening my eyes. When I recanted the story to others, I said the word nervously. Quietly, I retold the story of how a friend egregiously outed me and with a word that has only ever caused me pain. Not like my flamboyant friend, who had used it with ease and ownership.
Ownership. I said a word out loud that was not mine. I filled my mouth with every bad taste of my childhood, of every recess and ride on the bus. I allowed myself to be on the other side of my personal experience. I allowed myself to repeat the label that had caused me to overeat for comfort as a child, to cry in public bathrooms, and to hate my very being. I said the word "faggot" and I did not die.
I said "faggot" in front of a group of people who happened to care about me, who loved my charm and quick wit. I identified as my worst nightmare, and people weren't repulsed. It wasn't negative to be a faggot, it had not been all along.
The truth is that no one can use a label weapon against you if you know how you identify. If they speak the truth, then that is who you are and there is not shame there. If they happen to be incorrect, than that's their war to battle through. To live a free life, at times you have to agree with your antagonist. They were right, I am a faggot.

Night Nots

I saw you in my dreams
and you were not the right man.
Because when I saw you in my dreams,
you were the right man.