The Queen Issue (v. 17)

But you gon’ sing that shit anyway
It’s the note they will throttle from your throat
But not before they shred their fingers on the needles they made you swallow
The dirt they will marry to your skin
As if you ain’t ready to wed the soil
Give it the names of your past lovers
Run your fingers through its damp body and Hallelujah
Your hallelujah does not swallow itself whole
You vibrato brown boy you
The noise they’ve made of your grace
The static they’ve made you believe in
Your symphony does not buckle to silence
You
You choir of midnights overdosed on good sex and lone wolf children
You
You sudden wake of throbbing bones bursting in queer gospels
Praise the day they try to shatter your holy and rise up singing
Praise the day they try to crash your spirit into crescendo
Into Empty
Into broken kettledrum
Into Silent
To be gay in the tone of brown boy
Is to learn how to love your skin when love has become an obituary
It is to rewrite the symphony into a queer ballad of
Fuck you! We stay shedding these gay notes
Stay manifesting these rhythms
Stay singing
Loud
Vivid
and Brown
As ever