Well, telling the secret would ruin the sunrise 
Don’t want to ruin the fun!
What if we lose our magic? 
What if we lose our innocence?

Telling would mean that we would have to deal with the world
That would love to burn us at the stake!
Saying we’re martyrs for an agenda we chose
But I didn’t chose to love you…

Love me more!
Or just…love me at all

Begging is nothing new for me
But this time, it feels different
Begging for a new, unfamiliar love

It’s okay if it’s unrequited
But damn, wouldn’t I love it if she loved me back…

I know you are a warrior -

stronger than I am

more than able.

But I can’t stop picking fights

with any man who looks at you -

however unnecessary.

I realize

that I’m really protecting myself

and that you 

are the warrior

and that you 

are more than able.

I need to trust in your strength

because you don’t need a protector

at all.

I am not an animal.

I am not an animal.

I think of the women.

The women I’ve touched. The women who’ve touched me. The women whose bodies are now so far from mine. The bodies I grasped, pulled inward, knew intimately. The bodies I drew warmth from.

I remember these bodies vividly. I see flashes of their hips, their thighs, their belly buttons. It all happens at once. All of it. 

It’s us - when we wereus.

It seems so drastic, to shift from exchanging breath to exchanging glances. When did we stop breathing into each other?

I knew that the marks I left on your skin wouldn’t last. But I can’t help but see you without clothing or inhibition. Maybe that’s why you avoid me. Because your skin still stretches too thin. 

Because I still seeyou.

You happened to me. I was happened to
like an abandoned building by a bull-
dozer, like the van that missed my skull
happened a two-inch gash across my chin.
You were as deep down as I’ve ever been.
You were inside me like my pulse. A new-
born flailing toward maternal heartbeat through
the shock of cold and glare: when you were gone,
swaddled in strange air I was that alone
again, inventing life left after you.

I don’t want to remember you as that
four o’clock in the morning eight months long
after you happened to me like a wrong
number at midnight that blew up the phone
bill to an astronomical unknown
quantity in a foreign currency.
The U.S. dollar dived since you happened to me.
You’ve grown into your skin since then; you’ve grown
into the space you measure with someone
you can love back without a caveat.

While I love somebody I learn to live
with through the downpulled winter days’ routine
wakings and sleepings, half-and-half caffeine-
assisted mornings, laundry, stock-pots, dust-
balls in the hallway, lists instead of longing, trust
that what comes next comes after what came first.
She’ll never be a story I make up.
You were the one I didn’t know where to stop.
If I had blamed you, now I could forgive
you, but what made my cold hand, back in prox-
imity to your hair, your mouth, your mind,
want where it no way ought to be, defined
by where it was, and was and was until
the whole globed swelling liquefied and spilled
through one cheek’s nap, a syllable, a tear,
was never blame, whatever I wished it were.

You were the weather in my neighborhood.
You were the epic in the episode.
You were the year poised on the equinox.

Marilyn Hacker

哪一个你才是真的你

你选中一条绿松石项链
食指上的粉红豹戒指
硕大而耀眼
你走在人群中
像薮猫 像火 也像剑

你与我不同的地方令我着迷

你写给她的信
温润又诚恳
这样不吝不悔地将你们的羁绊
展现在世界面前
令我动容又妒忌

你的世界只存在于我的想象
而时不时地你又会说一些
直照到我心里的话
做一些仿佛镜像着我的动作
好像我问的问题你都懂
我想要的答案你都有

你在舞台上传达给我的
是甜的痛的美的苦的有着肉的温度
和生的辛辣的
梦幻世界的激情
梦幻
却仿佛曾在哪里真实发生过
仿佛曾在你或我的某一世
真实发生过

（你其实与我曾喜欢过的某人
长相相似
我一直不愿承认）

哪一个你才是真的你
活泼的内敛的隐忍的拼搏的
静止的温柔的色情的妩媚的
眼中含泪的惜字如金的
眉头颤抖的开怀大笑的
戴着面具的

永远是戴着面具的

该怎样独占一片天空的表情
该怎样守护一只鸟的飞行

Happy new year and all that good stuff! Sorry I’ve been a little absent lately, I’ve been in a weird place and having a hard time figuring things out. I have a new Pride art piece, hopefully, coming in the near future (๑>◡<๑)

I’m proud of all of you and remember to always be proud of yourself!!