Loving Outside the Lines

Been running headfirst into mirrors lately

queering straight past

foggy frames of glass I

used to rely on

to help focus

at night.

💫

Must've got comfortably complacent

fumbling through the dark

seeing great distances clearly

was not

a priority

💫

Sometimes the future's just too bright.

💫

I know I can't force poetry but fuck

sometimes I just want to!

💫

Why can't I access my

inner 3 year old and stomp

around these pages

tossing tantrums out through

the black hole at

the tip of this pen?

💫

Imagining fingers as black holes now

swallowing entire galaxies

universes of memories

a lifetime of names/dates/times/emotions

oceans of clarity and destructions

obliterated with a single touch.

💫

I KNOW I can't force poetry

but FUCK sometimes I just can't help it!

💫

It creeps up on me like the

handsome stranger

making eyes at me across the bar or

the moon so full and bright and beautiful when

all I can remember

is the dark empty space that new moon carves.

💫

I trace this space with black-whole fingers

playing with solar power

creating intricate stars

systems in pools of

local brew and burger grease

💫

And then

💫

Our eyes meet.

💫

Poetic?

💫

Indeed.

💫

Getting somewhere now ya see

Can't force it no

Won't force it

Gonna let it be.

💫

We walk down streets in search of

green pastures

places offering a breath of fresh

air to sing to

our heart's content

without the

overpowering heat of the

boiler room down the street

💫

I

casually reminisce of nights

(okay, 1 night)

spent watching erotica with my roomie.

💫

"Oh," you respond.

"This might be an interesting night."

💫

I nod

as you

adjust your gait pick up the speed

keep up pace

walk in stride with me.

💫

And so begins the dance

of the past

2 months

2 weeks

and 1 day.

💫

I wrote this piece in 2012 just a couple of months after my incredibly queer femme self had unexpectedly met, and started dating, a charming cis man. He and I remain friends to this day, and he's given me consent to share these words about our first night together.

The above poetic spew speaks to the excitement, confusion, doubt, and wonder that came along with the reality of being in a straight passing relationship once again.

I had come out "publicly" 7 years prior and had been in relationships with women and genderqueer folks up until this meeting. Once I recognized these familiar feelings of attraction that night, I felt myself simultaneously spiraling into a world of "Oh shit, this is HOT" and "But will the world still KNOW I'm fucking queer?" Both.

Yes, 27 year old Dirt. Yes, you, the sole staff member of a rural queer youth organization. Yes, you, the femme who continued to go to queer dance nights on the regular. Yes, babe. You're still fucking queer. Then. Now. All ways. It doesn't matter what the rest of the world thinks. Really. You do you. Keep on loving outside the lines.