My body has grown soft. Soft and brittle, hard to move, easy to bruise. Skin that shifts a little too freely over fat, pulled loose and drooping. My skin didn't toughen with age, but instead grew soft, like the peel on a rotted fruit.
Being queer is a (cough) rainbow of emotions, that's for sure. Our community makes me feel unity and togetherness and joy and hope, and it's okay that I also feel disconnected and regretful and frustrated and tired and on and on, because family is a complex thing and — sing it with me — we
Queer sex is not like straight sex. I don't mean the body-mechanics of it, necessarily, I mean the everything else of it. The emotion, the impetus, the follow-through, the mathematics. Queer sex is just different (and better!).
The Universe has given us a Martian ℞ — taken once per night, preferably with lots of water, and we still have half a bottle left to swallow. Consider another way to fight, friends.
