The words dance across the page, from where there born to where there needed.
Another package from Amazon, brown paper ripped. My mother asks 'what's that.' I mutter 'can't remember...keeping it for later... Gay theory..'
When she's in her bed and I'm alone I rip it open. Feeling creeped out at the address, written in office girl handwriting that could almost be my own.
Their love, in a shinning and awkward way. I always understood their was no double meaning to the word 'gay', it means free, happy and the way this to others is a very queer way to be. It was a process of trial and error, trying to interpret the constant avalanche of truth and orders from every cell in your own and everyone else body's. Screaming from the sap in the trees, singing from the unborn. But our journey's are our own and to take someone down a road that isn't the one they chose is the biggest betrayal.