Where Waldo was found to be an underage baby gay with heavy lidded eyes and a Southern Comfort smile; who’d once had his heart broken after merely two weeks… but then broken hearts can happen in far less time than that.
Waldo drove one of Mario’s carts, homing in on rainbow stripes worn on bald headed fairy (more than twice his age), who was himself besotted with the man who bore Waldo’s birth name.
Wally danced to oldies while a former lover’s ghost strummed his beautiful guitar solos, before and after which Waldo blushed beautifully and repeatedly, endearing himself to his queer tribal elders.
But Wally, having finally been found, disappeared just as quickly; no goodbyes, no traces left behind save vague impressions and random photos which did not do his memory justice.
Written by Jason Wright October 12, 2019
For Aaron K.
I hope that you find your way in the world; it’s all the brighter for having you in it.
You were my lover until the night that you weren’t.
You called me Janet… in the green shaded sunlight streams (like a stained glass painting) where we ran naked beneath that haunted woodland canopy.
I, daring to travel to forbidden places which our fathers forbade… to pluck the rose whose thorns did prick, beading blood from innocent skin.
On that final night you called me Lynn… (my misspelled middle name) when I appeared naked before you on the edge of twilight forest storm clouds; there, where I was deflowered by a fairy queen’s decree.
It was there, in the shadow of such bewildering and bruising beauty that you abandoned me, never to return.
As I had been counseled, I held tight to myself when you would have let me go…
And being unsaved, I saved myself, even as you faltered and fled.
True, I haunted that place on the following, on the morrow, as I brushed past tree limbs still wet with last night’s cleansing rain.
I walked to the spot where we’d smoked; the remains of last night’s victims, the evidence which proved that last night’s disaster had indeed taken place… a world shattering event which we have never discussed.
That woodland fairyland is a cursed place which returns to haunt my dreams.
That night I had been transformed into many creatures, into many forms, burned away to nothing and reborn from the ashes.
Janet and Lynn united in a pairing you could not possibly conceive of.
And thus combined, and bereft of your touch, I stumbled into the morning to learn what we’d become.
You tell him that sex with me will be completely emotionless for you, or at least that’s what I hear without really listening, but what you truly said is that our sexual activity will be completely emotionless for US, but that’s not wholly accurate… because I will feel something; if I didn’t already feel something I wouldn’t even bother.
You say that people don’t usually FUCK their ex-boyfriends, which I find funny because so far, they’re the only people I fuck, and why not?
I’ve loved you for almost as long as I’ve known you and can’t / won’t force myself to feel nothing.
But there’s NOTHING threatening to others by this potential reconnecting of interlocking bodies, because while sex will ALWAYS be emotional for me, I also hold no illusions that my having sex with you will bind you to me, making you a prisoner to only satisfy my needs, to only service my pleasure…
Our FUCKING will not reintegrate us into some magical reiteration of our former couplehood.
The idea is preposterous.
As preposterous as truth and as honest as fiction.
