Out of the Closets, and Into the Streets!

I had no coming-out story -
for me it was a slow and gentle slide
rather than a leap - a hiding still,
a cautious peek around sharp corners
of the inner rooms of "every fiber of
my being." We shouldn't be coming-out
anymore, anyway - we should just be, just
be out in the streets; remembering,
of course, the places from which
we came, but focused now only on
ourselves, and the dance, like summer
childhood, when the fire hydrant breaks
and everyone, young and old,
celebrates amidst the falling water and
rainbows of the cloudless skies of future -
and all of it outdoors, where we are seen.
All of it movement. All of it
present.

7/7