reading my skin

 

redheads
know better now
to guard against
the dangerous sun,

but our skin
tells cavalier stories
of childhoods
cycling through
burn,
peel,
freckle,
repeat…

scars learned-from
can be badges
of endurance
and resilience,

and freckles,
like the stars,
gorgeous remnants
of playing
with fire.

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howdy valentine…i wish i could quit you

Hi There, Pardner! I wish I could quit you.

Valentine’s Day was always troubling for me as a gay grade schooler.

I was expected to share giggly little messages of love with my classmates—that is, of course, girl classmates.

The messages were corny puns and all about the boy-meets-girl romances of the 1950s and ’60s.

It was indeed a confusing exercise in futility.

I have wondered what it would have been like to hand a valentine to a boy I had liked back then, or even now in this brave new world where children are supported by loving parents who encourage them to express their feelings.

Continue reading “howdy valentine…i wish i could quit you”