queer days in the
liminality spent with you.
queer boys, smiling, hugging on
the couch where we laid our heads on
summer nights when the bedroom was too hot.
queer days, each one a
continuation of the last, each one a
gray expanse into a night that
drags on; days spent staring at
screens, waiting for night, waiting for —
sleep now, and dream of better:
better days, better lives where we are not
so terrified, so fretting about the spectre of
in the summer we will dance again in the street;
we will laugh and cry and enjoy the heat,
suffer it but at least it is better than