[Sf ransoned'nd Se Conversion "remember the broken glass Shards that would have shamed the coat of J6Spe) gk shames eco) Each shard stitched to its brother by white Thread that hunghe window behind the Wooden pulpit. remember the tarnished gold saucer, Bent on the edge from the time Nick and I ran varound the pews up and down back and forth through the aisles one day after Sunday school. The crash of our laughter knocking. By golden saucer) * Into aged carpet.— tedaiet ah opt BE Ps Lot hy ly pent ‘And | remember pastor Michael dipping his hands into the seo ace ok a) Coolness of water, and bringing with it my salvation. Three bode 2A ed 2 & ringing with tt my salvat fingers licking the bottom, and then flicking it on me ie vat ise] read avert bare dousing my hair and brow with a dew. Lips hummed in unison as we ll in that moment gave our} fe tedhcy lene lives to Christ, to acceptance, to the power of love. Stew, bm wie “ os Sl ture eld byYou were tying your shoe fs Old converse sneakers.) aq ¥ wink Black tar stuck to the bottom 4 tea be And a hole in your left pant leg. nant And | was there. Standing, Apart from You. In afield where weeds sprung up ot As white flowers with hearts of gold, | Yellow pollen that fluttered along the / / Backs of the bumble bees, Until one stung you. Nick the brave. Nick the strong. Nick that never cried mm abt You told me it was only pollen in your eve. 7 we a yt ed- tte ‘And you cried for the sins we had not yet comm In love— in passio suit devwtFreedom Paints Itself Freedom paints itself as the strokes of his thumb over my hand ‘Brush up and down the coarseness of my skin— Oils hues —warmth—reds, yellows, pinks 77 ‘The flush of a cheek, the blister of a lip Pf coloring an abandoned canvas with of ‘splashes of passion, as if someone took phere Right index finger against the brush, dripped With ved paint, and pulled bck the haisY ‘Slowly, watching the empty space be win the possibilities ofthe forbidden and unknown. {stared at my freedom, esting salt on ny lef te vis other and resting Gn the teeing whesh and \wondered what ould be pated onthe road ahead veel pact?oe in Bed-side Table Bibles Lad sue What a conviction! ~ Ww ? You fell asleep, Ypdr heavy arm hanging Over my shoulder, Yor loud snoring Striking 3am to my ah wer We Awake State and mind) As I lay, tucked in from the heat of your body. ed Staring at the gold letters carved by King James i + ms ‘J mn Into the flesh of the Word of God. tek sf- ro ink catching light from bent blinds, Fingers pressed as you peaked for your Father tate h patal Up eternity, L the fh cule Waiting to see fhe wll come home.yrs a ee ee Tu i 2 we Have you ever an at a faucet long ie ugh? — Have you dipped hands below the coolness of water. Faucet ee And tried to clasp 91, to grasp the water, as it goes F A L L ! N G T H R ° U G H Foot ON yG & RS te 1 bet wpb Only to fail The water Striking the day's dirt from pores, and Splashing against the basin with fever— The water—the dirt—skin cells—alPofit— _Churning apd mixing together at the bottom of the basin, until we Théy, hand i in hand, dance through the pipes toward the moe Sea as one. No longer dirt, no longer water— But only sea. All of it coming together to mean life) ger .wee owt . “ It was not Sex? % Fle Then Gonr's mh Ha” that built the ie te aa " it fusp Ss a It was soft and stubbly hair against my ee two hearts pulsing in unison—it was yt jv wa Vv chest hair, ketchup, and sore ribs. ) 4 Ear as sleep made your chest rise and fall; ft be* It was the devious sparkle in your eyes as De of ot me flor [? we battled over whether ketchup or mustard is the fied ~ / superior condiment; ye bene? It was dense fingers jabbing me into the Salsa, and A flutter of laughter, tears streaming from eyes; It was not sex but the yousra me.Sea Lions Ear flaps. Foreflippers. Waddles, They vacation in the tropics, Annual trips to the Atlantic, | hear. € Best known for Surfing California sun As they lay along the shore. Unless some man comes along. a Six pack rings in tow, taming the ) 4 Animals with collars and names. And the sea lions are fine, for a time. we ! oe wet w They take the collar, the name. wt Until blubber fills, and they die. a 3a 2 If such be nature$ Holy Plan, Then why can’t | lament that Man can’t be with mantRevelation I stare down at wood-grained flooring; Murmured voices hang from purple got cushioned pews to moth-eaten Bibles; Head bent, kneenumbed, With the brown-eyed planks watching, Their white pupils blaring, I kneel to the alter, and watch the planks Sing in unison: "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty.”with squinted eyetgainst the cho rus, lunc lasp my pu ple ha ds to feel the sk and eel the e pty embrace of the congr egati fe Y tio’ , The very air of the Spirit as | whisper: “ whe was, and is, and failed to come." And | feel no lightning bolt, No thunder for my misdoings Only the silence, ard the hollow. chet perSeven Years ' prayed to God not to be gay, Tears rushing against my pillow case, cht, | prayed to God not to be gay, l c mgey| The Bible sl. wi hi uv : im é Bible slamming on the counter, carpe? I prayed to God not to be gay, The door locking me in my room, | prayed to God not to be gay, My mom’s referral to a psychiatrist, | prayed to God not to be gay, Cat calls from the locker room, Ye I prayed to God not to be gay, The stale voice saying, “It’s your choice.”