After Jericho Brown

Summer is the season of longing.
In dreams of the childhood home it’s burning.

In the childhood home my father burns.
I dressed like a boy when they let me.

I dressed like a boy when they let me
out of the house I fell in love with girls.

The house fell apart. I was still a girl,
tequila kisses by the lake at night.

Tequila kisses the lake my nights
fell open-armed and unrequited.

My open arms were unrequited.
I couldn’t spit the word queer out.

The word queer, spit, I couldn’t be out.
Summer is the season of longing.