Let me know how dangerous it is to love you, that’s what makes me feel like I am dangerous too. Am I a danger to you? Or are they a threat to us? To our lovely way of life.
If you touch the person you love, will you be risking it all? If not, you should be grateful. Pull that legal love close, appreciate the ease you live in to love.
They don’t get it, I get that, but we get it, and it’s ours to have. It’s not an exclusivity thing; it’s just a queer thing, a thing different.
When I walk next to you (you, yes, you), I want to walk inside of you. By that I mean I want to be touching you, close to you, with you, but there is danger here and there, sometimes everywhere. It’s not that I am afraid to die, of that I have complete acceptance, I fear for your you. That you, you decided to show me because I was crazy enough not to look away.
I am thankful for the private places we find away from those harsh realities. I don’t think you are a coward because I’ve seen how brave you can be. You’re my hero for growing into being the one who hogs the blankets. You’re my hero for taking me when I can’t take the world. You’re my hero with your morning grump and midnight restlessness.
Let me know in the security of your voice, the steadiness of your hand. Let me know how you find me so that I can find you.
Aigner Loren Wilson is a queer Black SFWA, HWA, and Codex writer. Her work has appeared in Arsenika, Terraform, Rue Morgue, and more. She was listed on the honors list for the Otherwise Fellowship award for 2019. She also writes or edits for Strange Horizons, Nightlight Horror Podcast, Oly Arts, Discover Pods, and more. She offers a writing craft newsletter to people who want to become better writers and publish quality pieces.