49

I don’t have personal history so

I can’t truly speak of inner and

constant fear,

threat to safety,

misery of concealment.

What I have is familiarity,

memories of mirror balls and strobe lights,

techno decibels and Gloria Gaynor,

beautiful sweaty bodies,

glistening with rendezvous and desire,

walking home in a tropical dawn,

laughing with my gay boys, arm and arm,

one last cigarette and

maybe a splash in the pool in the dark.

I

have

been

there.

Gathered in clubs with smiles large and

laughter unbound,

grinding,

shimmying,

thrusting,

modified salsa way past midnight.

Never a thought of danger,

nor an allusion of dread,

no panic, no fright.

Shaking the images in my imagination

is not a simple process.

I can no way comprehend

the terror.

And

I cannot accept the anguish.

These feelings of loss and sorrow

are not mine personally but

they could have been

us.

We could have been

them.

My mourning is not extinguished.

My grief is still twirling on the dance floor.

Orlando June 12 2016

Thank you for reading.......