Origins Distilled in Spectrums

“We may never touch queerness, but we can feel it as the warm illumination of a horizon imbued with potentiality. We have never been queer, yet queerness exists for us as an identity that can be distilled from the past and used to imagine a future.” - Jose Muñoz

Red, oxygenated blood whispers details of veins,

a minuscule yet defined family tree,

branching out to the “build a kid” workshop.

Orange life vests in a child’s size medium

clash with adult kayaks, caught

between Adirondack mountains like a popcorn kernel

Yellow peril, black lives, aren’t asking for my white—

neutral tears. I cry

respect for the intersectionality of our beginnings.

Green nature starts looking

more like the Starbucks logo than a pine.

Gluttony and greed came to the north country through city smoke.

Blue eyes reflect in my nephew’s wristband. Awareness

of an unknown spectrum that will linger and grow with him.

I just want to hear him talk to me.

Indigo’s devotion found in a prowl after—

pray for salvation from a baby toad in the driveway.

I prefer streetlamps over halos.

Violet flowers crest Sappho’s love in Judy Garlands.

Bloom a vibrant purple, a mixture

still a hue in itself.