by Lin Flores


Before I enter captured
nostalgia, I kiss the clear night sky
hello. As Travis Scott comes
on we bounce shoulders back,
we vibe, we ride, we glide round
the rink like we were meant to slide
in and out of each other like lovers
or friends do but I spot two boys
who know the meaning of lover
the way I want to, the way I might
have been with you. These boys
though, they circle each other gingerly
gently grinning not-so-secret
messages between the blades of
their brimming joy gleaming
shine of their teeth and shy smirks.
I watch them work to court one
another. One boy, black and lean,
begins voguing on beat, regal
rink leader and the other follows,
he a broad brown beauty and their
reflections light up the gloss of the floor,
the color of the rainbow, they, the stars
of this galaxy. When we circle each other,
I nod with bright recognition & respect
for our shared queerness here, skating
like star babes, star gays in a het. haze
and they return a nod back as gentle
acknowledgment for our shared space,
I stargaze for a love like
two boys voguing at the roller rink.


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