I want them to come now;
I want you to come now, heady and strong,
and release me from the rainbow.
No more shadows on the wall.
No more wayang;
we did Camaralzaman, Prince of the Isle of the Children of Khaledan and of Badoura, Princess of China
on the 29th and 30th of July, 1892.
So take a bow,
and let curtain fall by the wayside.
Because I want them here, now, everywhere;
I want you, here, now, everywhere –
I still want you.
I’ll admit it, I’ll say it –
once you’re out of the closet,
there’s no turning back.
There’s no retaliation.
There’s no way to santah kaladu.
There’s no way to take it back.
I wish you could take all your words back.
I wish you could have lived without me.
I wish you could have fucked off earlier.
I wish you could take it all off, again,
and lie with me, as you once did
in your mind’s eye.
Release me from this rainbow, this sorrow.
If not, I’ll go on living,
A wild, unending ride measured in songs,
leavened in stories,
still waiting for the day
when this poem matters enough to you
that it all finally comes through
that you finally come through for yourself.