This is Sitting Queerly, a newsletter focused on the late blooming queer experience, the lofty goal of opening up conversations and celebrating those who embrace their full selves.
Be at a distance
Or at least in disguise
Find water clear, green or blue
Shallow or deep
But also sun, they won’t come out without the sun
And be calm
Except for the deafening echoes in your chest
Except for the sharp voices in your head
Breathlessly encouraging
Screaming caution
Bronze and porcelain glimmering along with the ripples
They laugh and joke
Fight to keep your eyes down
To prove you don’t see them
Even when they’re sitting in front of you, oar in hand
Or laying beside you on warm pebbles
Your eyes tracing every line made by bone, muscle, tendon
You want to become entangled in them
But that would break the spell
Break the illusion you must maintain
Lest you make them hide, maybe forever
So you sing to yourself
A song they’ll never hear
So you can continue living
Unfulfilled
And see them next summer
Nailed it. I sit here with goosebumps because I am right there.
Restacked