Andy

I’m heading south.
No money, years of concealment
Ripped open, in a moment of anguish.
Not a well planned departure.

My life is passing.
Yet I have not ventured
Beyond my accustomed boundaries.
How will my people respond to my heresy?

I said the word “gay”
But no inner voice responded “thank god”.
I loosed the whirlwind
Trying to be what my 15 year-old body wanted,
And still drives me to the edge of madness.

That need, never dissipated.
It still ravages my nights,
A 60-year -old neophyte,
Compelled to taste from Adam’s tree.

Will I survive without my material comforts,
My family’s love?

Do not speak of others’ explorations.
The tragedies of lives lost,
Or families tore asunder.
Comparative disasters offer no succor.

I dare not look back; surely the furies will ride me to ground.
I cannot look forward, a pathetic senior
Desperately needing a mans touch.