Every story was a man in an alleyway,
in a bathroom stall, pants around his
ankles and a 1950s ad screaming
We never had stories about the women
loving women, hugging women, caring
and sleeping and embracing women,
the men who found their white-picket fence
or an apartment with kids or cats, we
never saw those stories.
And like a light now, we are here,
we were unspoken and nothing
we were something to fear, something
dangerous and now we are kind,
people, turning over this world’s leaf
one hand at a time. We are in the clubs,
heels on, faces beat, cat-eye runway
disco theme empresses and football players
feeling our fantasies but now
we’re allowed to do more than a dream.
We still have to work harder, yell louder,
fight back when we’re safe but we are here
and never leaving, never going back to the alleys
until they’re empty and ready to make something
of beauty and history and grace.