Sonnet 16 Smooth
When I used to jog along Lake Michigan
Men used to love my legs and behind
Twelve months on indinavir
Caressing, massaging my body from head to toe, I love your smooth ass, he says Jolted from the pleasurable sensations, I look over wondering who he is talking to.
--Vimal K. Jairath
pity the bodies that embrace
in the weary lines of the worn, torn face
pity the miserable, wretched
but never seeing . . .
Rainbow banners arc Fifth Avenue.
Light wind directs drizzle to the Pride Parade.
At 2 p.m. hundreds of thousands stop.
A cop lowers her radio, drowning static; a queen
gathers his hem, stopping the tinkling of bells.
We hold our dead around us in silence.
With a cheer the procession continues.
I wouldn't have had it any other way than just as soon as
I promise not to write another lousy word about
decay or loss and vow to answer every how
are you with a generous fine thanks
I'm shown my baby brother's
short story about his
help me Rhonda help help me Rhonda
my sister hugs me
with an anacondan grip
and says how great I look and
mom insists my hair is getting thicker
to which I say and mean it wow and I love
you and thanks and so do you and no it's not a
perm and life is good and well I really can't complain
Doors close on the Pelham local.
But his hair isn't red (rather sandy).
A red/blue edged air mail envelope,
What a noggin' its oblong shape,
With a smile, his wiry form gets off
This article was provided by Body Positive. It is a part of the publication Body Positive.