You Can’t Pray the Gay Away — a poem

You pray and pray six hundred times a day. As you judge and spread your hateful lies. Peeking in our bedrooms. Itching, hating, regulating.

By Jamie delos Reyes

Photo by Myriams Fotos

Do you remember the night I told you
That my best friend could fly?
He had been so tired that day
And he told me to stay
On the phone because he had something to say
About how he’d had enough
About how this world’s too rough
And asked me to forgive
Asked me to only remember
All our good times together
And I threw down the phone
Raced as fast as I could to his home
But he had flown already
His feet were holding steady
Inches from the ground
A letter in his frozen fingers
To the only boy he ever loved

Do you remember when you told me
That girls shouldn’t kiss other girls but
I pressed her lips to mine, felt the flow
Never tasted anything so right before
But she was scared of her…