Green Spaces

Squeezing my emotions and thoughts out so others can see and understand them, like a tube of toothpaste. As if, by doing such acts you pass quietly into other dimensions. There is more than one way to look at the world.

Some might see this and call it a sunrise. Box it in, label it. Just like the British dominion of nature. The cement and cobblestones strangle. We found this lone green space and made it ours. Some would call it a sunrise. But I cannot name these passing things. I see the sky turn pink and yellow, the darkness lifting, and his face outlined slowly, flashing white teeth as he smiles at me. We are under a large tree, and earlier my sandaled feet passed over the dew-wet grass. I notice the colors in the sky, and the sharp outline of trees breaking the horizon as I happen to glance sideways. The lawn stretches before my eyes to the left, and the sky on the right. He is magnificent, and it doesn’t hurt. Boyfriend for a night, yes, I think it is possible. We embrace passionately, tenderly. He sighs as I bring him in to my chest, exhales and smiles. Our bodies contrast. His dark hair, liquid eyes, and musky smell whispers of Arabia. His furry legs and chest recall – why not! – Persian carpets. Beautiful man. And me: sun-touched hair, fair, and not so furry. We realize we complete each other in the morning, and this place we have made our own. Taking turns, we enjoy each other. Some recklessness. Some adventure. Much passion. And now I can really say that I know the soul of Hyde Park, London.

A lazy cigarette afterward, as we sit naked on our clothes. We are alive this morning.

Gay Vancouver

There’s four days till Christmas and it’s raining in Vancouver. I’ve got a boy on my mind, and sushi in my hand. A smile and a lingering kiss are on my lips. Last night’s sleeplessness was worth it, so I tell myself as the tiredness creeps in. Traveling by skytrain, bus, walking downtown in the drizzle with my rushed breakfast and leather jacket. This is my winter of twenty-two.

The streets are not so wild in the morning. They are tame and boring. By day, Davies is a gay ghetto, with convenience stores and foreign food restaurants along the strip. Rainbow flags are plastered on every door front, but I find them meaningless. By night, the music in the clubs can be heard, the swank restaurants are calling, the dance floors are dancing to the beat, and I’m there. Buying new underwear with confidence. Knowing I have the power. The city feels like I own it, it’s there for me. Adventure.

I meet up with friends, Starbucks it is. People-watching. People-judging. Shooting the breeze, who slept with who? Listen to my ipod, this song’s the best. Oh my god, that’s horrible! What did you do? You should just forget that guy, he’s not worth it. Did you see his penis at least? I’m a graphic artist. That guy’s looking at me. Ya, I’d fuck him if I didn’t look at his face. That is so not a woman, I see stubble! I want to move downtown, but I need a job. I really like your shirt, where’d you get it? My underwear’s riding up, check it out, Ginch Gonch. I’m so horny you guys! I ended up at my ex’s last night, sorry.

And the rain keeps falling, and the boys keep passing by. Pretty soon we three join them, back on the bus, back on the ferry, back to the island, away from this gay hub. We’ll dream and plan our next Vancouver adventure soon.