I knew a boy once
when I was younger…
Really,
it was more like I knew people
who knew him;
an acquaintance.
I thought him straight
but kind,
possibly manipulative,
but when I saw another turn his head
I knew that I had been mistaken.
Perhaps he was confused…
Perhaps I was confused…
Even when involved with a man I knew,
I didn’t quite believe it.
He was like
a vision of youth
and culture
and ideas relating to things
and places I didn’t have access to,
beyond his possible longing,
his desire for his own gender.
The night that he drunkenly kissed me
was flattering and insulting all at once.
I gained no access, you see,
and though his lust was honest
and the way his eyes met mine
left little doubt that I was attractive to him,
I’ve never quite convinced myself
that he wasn’t seeking to make my friend jealous.
I’m no longer friends with the man who had been his lover;
nor have I been such for nearly two decades…
I wonder what ever became of this man
who glistened in the background of my life.
His dark hair
and the way his smile made his eyes dance…
Gustavo.
I stumble for his name
in the car
as Aaron and I listen to “Giovanni’s Room”.
I hope he came to a better end;
he deserved at least that much…
I thought his name beautiful
and a fitting word to match
his twilit lambent contradiction of a smile.
If he lives,
I doubt he has spared me
a second thought.
Written by Jason Wright
September 8, 2017