@ 27.055 MHz: Ad Astra; That Light, In That Photograph

That morning light, in that photograph of you,

looks like the light of that Thursday, September

Ninth of Nineteen Seventy-six, at about ten

o'clock as they transported me to that campus

(liberal arts, a dormitory college) more than ten weeks of

enforced (and, then, still unimaginable) separation from

J-Lore, my First Beloved.  And were you---whom

neither of us knew at the time---sitting on your bed,

clad in that mesh tee shirt and denim (cutoffs) shorts,

your hirsuit, slender, muscular legs and

agile feet provocatively bare.  No smile on your face;

your deep eyes seemed to brim over with sorrow, in the

moment the camera (whosever) recorded you.

Were you thinking of your own boyfriend, and how

ferociously society denied the two of you the right to

love each other according to the needs of your shared nature?


Starward

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