top of page

Remember when you took a tennis racket to the face?

You tried your hardest not to cry

But angry tears in fits and starts kept springing from your eyes

You were so mortified

You didn’t even know me but all I could think was

“God I hope he feels better”

 

Remember when I tried to introduce you to my mom?


We’d known each other for a week

She didn’t know just what was going on

I’m sure my voice betrayed the giddiness that I was feeling

Undefinable, but sharp and light

And filling my whole body

 

How you saw me

The possibility

I didn’t know enough to call it love

 

Remember when our parents sat us down

To tell us we were banned from talking on the telephone

‘Cuz we were tying up the line

And our phone bills nearly doubled from our constant conversation

Still, they were probably relieved, their sons were finally making friends

 

Remember when we tried to download the first episode of Queer as Folk?


It took all night

It also was illegal 

and it didn’t even finish

But the laggy, low-res glimpses of that dance floor

Made my dark suburban basement feel more temporary

 

Stay up all night

Lean in to what feels right

I didn’t know enough to call it love

 

Remember when we roomed together that one summer?


It was the only perk of being in the closet in 2003

And in the morning when we stopped talking to each other

And the day that I came back to find the door was locked

‘Cuz someone else was in there

 

I should have known

I was your stepping stone

And just when I had learned to call it love

 

The match was thrown

Learn how to be alone

And just when I had learned to fall in love

bottom of page