root
Maui Smith
the thing about three am in fourth grade?
it’s like discovering you can pause time
provided you can keep the TV volume
below twenty-five. i met her there
on HBO after dark, the only black girl
in the softcore porn i visited nightly.
i heard the word gay before but it didn’t
have anything to do with me watching the
girl i liked fake fucking other girls
on my tiny sticker covered silver TV
so it should surprise no one I thought I was
a boy before I thought I was a lesbian.
eighteen years plus one point five,
as in one decent year and four months
so awful they should count as six with a
white boy - a white boy! – i had never
been in love before but I had been loved
before so I knew what a kiss from plantain
sweet lips felt like and still chose wrong
but when I stopped pretending to like
hockey and started being myself it all
fell apart and oh, the freedom in losing it
all! i shed masculinity and danced and
danced out of spring and into summer days
of kissing brown nipples in the park and
intertwined brown hands and black women
loving black women under an almost black
night sky and I thought to myself: how
did I ever pretend to like men?