This TBT, here is a poem I wrote when I was first making those tentative first steps out of the closet.
I see him standing beneath a low spreading oak.
Supple limbs sweet lips.
A dream made real, fantasy into flesh.
We cling together with passions kindled.
We cling through an inferno of exaltation.
A strong man with a warrior’s heart.
We walk together through the City,
past the dingy bar with its prostitutes
spilling out onto the corner.
Business is slow. They nurse their beers
and snort their coke.
We walk to the rainbow shrouded bar.
Through the door, a clash, a clamorous
cacophony of sound.
The insistent boom of bass backing
a high energy beat.
Youthful energy lost in play
Youthful energy swallowed whole and fullby the sultry southern night.
Marcus Gardner 1999