I speak for the masses
The sides of me inside of me
The arrested phases that do not know how to grow
The girl who grew, too tall too soon
Somewhere in there, a woman walks
Head held high, chin and forehead gently jutted
To the sun, she says
And she does
She does love
To do, to be
She questions me
To lead in love
That gives me pause
First steals my breath, then intuits me to question her back
What of the times you sought to love, to befriend
To be a friend, although in need?
They knew nothing of love!
Friendship foreign to them, they offered an attack
An inevitable abandonment
This is life, and you cannot opt out
You cannot, too, jump ship
You cannot not love, friend
She says to me
Let us not act our age one night in New York City. When the smoky underground Club’s strobe light distress-signals us, let us just say yes. As, for God’s sake, it is the one place that accepts us as we are and we refuse to notice that they spell it wrong.
The rainbow-haired, don’t care dance is ours and theirs and we were born this way, to steal away -the lot of us, the we. There’s no one who’ll make us go back to the where we once called home. The white-noise sizzle of this place will see to that.
I can not hold your hand in public
I can only kiss you in the dark
I will want or must take you now
I will not risk my reputation for you
I wanted a supermodel
I wanted a life without the angst of you
I turn on you and bleed ink onto paper
I turn a buck off your stopped heart