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.