i didn’t come here for the spectacle.
didn’t come for the surgically-smooth perfectly sculpted bodies
or the packs of girlies with curated sandals
or the thirst traps disguised as healing.
i came for salt.
for something un-curated.
for the chance to feel real in a world
that wants queerness declawed, digested, dead.
//
saw someone I used to know, still do?
or maybe not.
maybe they said hi.
maybe they didn’t.
does it matter?
it matters.
i’m still that younger me, that guttingly tender younger they
showing off stuffed animals to someone
who would rather die than match my joy, panicked glances of “please let’s get the hell out of here.”
Otherized.
you think you grow out of that ache.
you don’t.
you just learn to carry it quieter.
//
Messages exchanged with another. waited.
watched clouds roll in, like the party had ended without me.
left before the sky could soak me.
left before i could feel stupid for waiting. yet again.
i don’t want pity.
i want presence.
i want something that doesn’t make me feel
like the burden of connection is always
mine
to initiate,
mine
to maintain,
mine
to apologize for.
//
somewhere near the rinse stations,
Another person shrieked at the cold water spouting.
we laughed. shared that biting sensation as darker clouds gathered overhead.
it wasn’t deep.
but it was something.
i took it. pocketed it like a smooth stone.
//
queer space is supposed to feel like home.
sometimes it feels like a party i wasn’t actually invited to.
sometimes it’s just high school with different branding.
a mirror maze of maybe he saw me.
maybe they’re ignoring me.
maybe i’m in my head.
maybe i’m not.
//
the thing is
i still showed up.
sat in the sand.
felt the wind on my skin.
let the sea wash over me.
and i didn’t collapse.
didn’t contort.
didn’t capitulate to the urge to disappear.
i just
left.
like a fucking legend.
//
no neat endings.
no pride month slogans.
no gratitude for being allowed to exist.
i refuse assimilation with a smile.
fuck being subsumed within that which is bourgeois.
fuck imperial ambivalence.
i want teeth.
I, we, deserve a love that doesn't flinch.
a future that doesn't ask us to behave.