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Fortress

Poetry By: juliejew
Poetry


a response to a recent hate crime that hit wayyyy too close to home.

this hasn't been edited really, and needs tweaking.


Submitted:Feb 12, 2009    Reads: 58    Comments: 1    Likes: 0   


grief makes people do strange things.

you point to a picture and say
her, that was her
and I remember sitting across from timanna
during trans alliance meetings,
what happened? I ask.

In her own home,
he tore her apart...

in the silence, I fill in the pieces
in her own home,
the door unlocked, he followed her
placed his hands on her
and tore at the image of her queerness
tore into the most solid piece of her
for no fucking reason at all.

You lay back in my bed, leaving
room beside you that asks to be filled
I wrap around you as tightly as possible
trying to make us into some
impenetrable wall
unable to be torn into.
with the door locked,
the music on,
we hold on to each other, just long enough
to forget about timanna,
I shift a finger against your arm
and wait for an answer.

your calluses say everything,
we lace our fingers for extra stability,
we are impermeable
and no one will tear through my doorway
and rape us, we will not wind up in a hospital
like her, and our queerness, so impossible to hide
will remain unobtrusively live on my mattress
sheltered from the forces outside
that have carried away one of our own
like the most unpredictable tornado.

I place my head on your chest,
pausing only a moment before kissing you
and being kissed back, even harder than we had
a year and a half ago, and I'm 18 again and we're
kissing like we are closing the weak areas off
kissing like desperate, love starved people
kissing like we are reinforcing the brick wall of our butchness
kissing like there is nothing left to be safe from
kissing because life is so tiny
and we have wasted so much of it
by not making good use of our mouths

and we are making good use of them now.





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