Retro

Moustache close up.

I walked in the bar and my heart dropped to my stomach.  All it took was one glance in his direction.

Ball hat pulled low. Sacrilige.  Hiding those crystal blue eyes.

Handle bar mustache.  He’s drawn like a Tom of Finland dream.

I just want to grab hold and steer him to the door.

His shirt comes off.  Mine does too, pulled off by a dude in a harness who soon fastens one to me.  But my eyes are on him and that 70’s retro monstrosity crawling over his lip.

I want to kiss him.

My friends tell him so and when I order my next drink he is leaning over the bar pouring himself into my mouth.

It’s dirty.  I know.

It’s not like me.  I know this too.

But everything about him makes my body turn itself inside out.  I want to swallow him.  He’s surprisingly gentle as his furry lip presses against my own.

It feels amazing.  I want to do this all night.  And maybe we will.  I’m already counting the minutes to take him home.  

It’s not like me.  I know.

It’s dirty. I know this too but tonight we’re going retro.

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In Love with a Straight Guy

Artist Andrew Moncrief's painting titled Rest at Harvest

I finally understand the hurt I caused you.

It wasn’t intentional.  I promise.

I guess I wanted to be better, wished I could learn to love you.

I can’t control my heart.  Even if it tears me in two to love him.

I must.

I could write a hundred sonnets and still not be finished describing you in perfect detail.

The words, and they are all I have, are of no consequence.

But at least they’re proof.  We will never be together.  I understand this and accept it.

How can a man who loves women be with a man who loves men?

And yet the devil is in the details.  And in the details we’re in love.

You told me so, a marriage proposal no less, though you weren’t down on one knee.

I can’t explain how the very thought of you, even thousands of miles away utterly fills me.

My molecular structure is in tune with your very name.  Conjure it and my body alights. 

I love you, I always will.  Until this flame is extinguished and I pass forward onto a new existence.  My only hope is that in that lifetime we are destined together.

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Alexander and Hephaestion

Border2Border Entertainment

We were/are/may-be Alexander and Hephaestion. I have called you by many names. Patroclus. Hephaestion. Alexander. Yes, you are Alexander too.

Just over a year ago you fell into my life. Again. Fell from the sky like an astroid that knew its target. A missile set on destruction or to jolt me awake. The jury is still out.

Speechless.

I find myself overwhelmed with thoughts of you. Just like the first time. Consumed. An unholy fire. And I’ve been here before. And before. And before.

A funeral pyre. I look out the window and it burns and burns and burns. It’s so high. The highest I’ve ever seen. I wanted it to be a testament to you. To our love. To show the world that this, that we – were. I’m unsure if the smoke is stinging my eyes or if I’m simply still crying. I’m not sure that I’ll ever stop. How could I?

I lost my everything in you. My heart in all its vastness and possibilities, all its secret chambers that were for our spelunking alone is an echo chamber now. I chase around the corners trying to catch up with your voice, hoping it still lingers in a corner. Trapped in a crevice I rushed past too quickly in my flight to find you.

You can’t be gone. I’d waited my whole life – knowing you before I knew you. Each night I prayed for you, sent up gratitude for the man coming to share my life that I hadn’t encountered yet.

Which is why it can’t be over. This earthly experience can’t be so vengeful. Or can it? You’ve had your share and then some. Another reason why I’m overwhelmed when I look at you. How did you stay so good? Stardust. It’s what you’re made of and what you’ve returned to, time and time again. The celestial forge has gathered you. Sent you. Gathered you. Sent you. Gathered you.

And each gathering has compacted the essence, the learning, the empathetic and understanding heart. It’s in this Knowing that I can watch your pyre and not be engulfed.

Yes, my heart was broken. Yes.

And now when I look up into the sky and see a heavenly body plummeting, rocketing, burning up as it enters my consciousness I’m frightened. I’m just a human with a very fragile heart. How can I ever be prepared for the avalanche that is you?

How do we tell our story? How to convey something that in this incarnation was so brief? A something passing that was everything and then nothing again.

We were so young. I keep coming back to that. To my naivety. To my naivety. To your irresistible flame. To my naivety.

I have called you by many names. Patroclus. Hephaestion. Alexander. Yes, you are Alexander too.

I know you as I know myself and yet in each encounter I’m struck in awe. Awed in the vastness of your stardust that expands exponentially and beckons to be explored.

And so how do we begin a tale that has no nose and no tail? We find ourselves somewhere in the circle again with the choice to recognize its inevitability or deny it exists despite being the ones responsible for its creation. The pattern comes from us. A tapestry woven as vast as the jewelled night sky. Maybe it’s to catch each other? A net ready to safely welcome the heavenly body shuttling back home.

Xander. I’m frightened. Do I have the stamina and fortitude to encounter you again? Can we rush up this river of memory together and not be capsized? When the water is muddy.

Stand still child and it will run clear.

Family of persian king Darius before Alexander The Great and his friend Hephaestion after the Battle of Issus.  When Alexander the Great and Hephaestion (his closest friend) went together to visit the captured Persian royal family, Sisygambis knelt to Hephaestion to plead for their lives, mistaking him for Alexander — Hephaestion was the taller, and both young men were similarly dressed. When she realized her mistake, she was acutely embarrassed, but Alexander reassured her with the words, "You were not mistaken, Mother; this man too is Alexander.
Italian:  La famiglia di Dario davanti ad Alessandro
The Family of Darius before Alexander by Paolo Veronese (1570) in the National Gallery, London

When Alexander and Hephaestion went together to visit the captured Persian royal family, King Darius’s mother Sisygambis knelt to Hephaestion to plead for their lives, mistaking him for Alexander — Hephaestion was the taller, and both young men were similarly dressed. When she realized her mistake, she was acutely embarrassed, but Alexander reassured her with the words, “You were not mistaken, Mother; this man too is Alexander.

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