PIRATE RADIO: A QUEER DANCE PARTY

Many peoples and tongues, forbidden, ridiculed, forgotten. Pressed tightly and violently to the edges by the warped gravity of empire and hegemony.

But even when the field is paved over, the weeds will find the fissures. A tear in the veil begets light and rain, and when the mirror is shattered, we see that no face is sovereign in the shards. Myriad smiles beam back at us. When there's rot in the walls, our bodies forced to fit the holes, and our hands rusted to fists, was this house ever meant to hold us? But at the edges we build. Our hearts budding from the bones of the earth, kisses burnt into the skin of the air, threading upwards through the lattice. In communion, ownership unravels. Truth and love seep in like dusk in the window, unclaimed. All things are free to those who know how to give.

COME DANCE…