A Quorum of One
In Antioch we had to leave our splendid houses to see the illicit show — and in Rome too — while in Athens one had to enter the debauched part of town—conspicuous to others in like minded pursuit — knowing who they were — a community of fallen saints aging together; melancholy, agile, but aging with lust still pent up in the marrow — finding a hint of comfort — knowing we weren’t the only ones.
And in rich Alexandria, or by the Bosphorescent waters of Constantinople, back from the silk route, the salt road, the spice trade — we had to walk in shadows — cross under the archways — and sometimes, yes sometimes, there were blessings along the way as in the dim lamplight we met our young selves, alive with youth and possibility — traded carnal favors — pleased and sometimes paid — to wander back home well spent — glad we’d left our warm beds to attend the theater.
Now, we stay in with our darkened dreams — our faces lit by the blue glow of perfection — clicking out notes to one another — mysterious, hidden liars, hoping but for a surprise — that one of us will make the first move and come for the other.
A Quorum of One was published in Sleeping Fish
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