This is a new one born from an exercise I did at a queer sort poetry night in London. The activity was to receive five random words in an envelope and write a poem on the theme of "what queer freedom means to me." The first poem I wrote was submitted to the host on the spot. I don't remember what I wrote, but I didn't care much for it. I decided I'd try my hands at a new poem with the same words on my own time. The words were: mass, kin, road, nails, heat. Here's what I came up with:
Her mass of hair rests softly against my neck
I watch the steady rise and fall of her chest
kin to mine
Her fears are plain in the curl of her lashes
My fears are plain in the shame of my longing
We lie still
embraced in our grotesque desire
Her mouth parts like a break in the summer rain
the heat of her body whispering her want
the relentless drumming of an anxious heart
Her nails trace along my skin...
"what if they find out?" they ask in the dimness of dawn
"can you love me?" my eyes ask in response
"I should hit the road" I choke out in a faltering whisper
artfully untangling our limbs
dressing with practiced efficiency
I creep out into the approaching morning leaving self and truth
cooling quickly in her now empty embrace
I face the wind with a courage I lack to face myself
"I don't want to hurt my family" the refrain plays
"Besides, who would want a daughter that's gay?"
