Oracle of the Kristang Body
You need to have more sex
that you actually like. My advice
is the same, for 90% of the population,
and backed by the strongest possible psychoemotional evidence:
you still don’t like how you smell like
in the mirror, and fear what you think looks like horror,
straightforward and lurching between you and tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow:
nang dibeh.
Would that we were all Macbeth, and Hamlet, and Lear, and Dante Aligheri,
but we’re not. And hell and heaven
actually take quite a bit of time
to intermarry.
Kena miscegenated?
Like I said, don’t worry.
Take a taste in the window
of your own beautiful, radiant immensity—
bitch, there’s only one intense, shimmering cutie
like you. And if you don’t love yourself,
how in the hell is the glass supposed to say anything else
but that you’re a freak, a weirdo. A last
goodbye to humanity. Don’t fucking take those words in;
I’m an oracle, and also a very creole psychologist. You need to take a hard pass
on anything that says, lacerate yourself, and how filled with joy and hope you actually are.
Gay or straight,
victim of love or hate,
you deserve to be here. Take it from me—
I have so many people that I quite deservedly should take
away from my Life and light, and sexiness and might.
But no.
We’re done with that madness.
This is where we make things right:
you need to love yourself.
And let me say you are not alone:
this Kristang Dragon absolutely knows what it’s like.
But if you’re willing to stand up and say no more
then you know that Kevin Martens Wong will always be right alongside
you, ready to fight
the future they sold you:
we’re writing a new story.
It’s not a prophecy, or a fate, or a destiny:
but it is going to be absolutely fucking true
that there was always more to your Life than this.
So stand up, Dragon warrior. Lion child. Dreamfighter.
Paint on your own stripes,
grow out your mane,
and let’s go see that dreaming ocean together.