The Day I Came Out
stains flowered
the ceiling
of my hotel room
where I’d hardly
slept sun leaked
the inauguration
of my new decade
& next to me a man
I didn’t know
past the bends
of his body stirred
I reclined beside
myself in the shade
to remember
his face
exalted in my breath
& how his voice
shook the mounting
pressures of still
water as he said
I love you
though he’d never
seen me before
that night I love you
with his gin
& tonic his winter
-fresh his navel
piercing his
elongated O’s
I love you he’d said
& maybe war ended
with the word
I turned to his sun
-smoothed torso
asleep there his
abdomen a road
-map of white space
clavicle shoulder tiny
bird of a bruise
in the droop
of his back
& I thought maybe
there’s still time
for celebration
my future a sky
blue terraria
to display this
ever burgeoning
affection not
affliction not
affectation nor
consequence I
kissed the man’s
forehead & left
him there nameless
left with no
number only
the memory of his
skin & this brilliant
yearning to be
seen outside
the street pulsed
shameless & so full
of color my body broke
into a wave
of electricity
merging seamlessly
with the rest
of the world
***
Photograph of Aldo Amparán by Laura Trejo.
