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Why I Hugged a Stranger
I barely knew
her, she was fifty years older than me
(give or take a few,)
but she could see
our shared world of rainbow flags
and lists of labels.
(Is sexuality our price tags?)
It's her blood that enables
me and my girlfriend to hold hands
while walking down the street,
why we have a right to exist being queer or trans.
Our revolutions heat
is from her flame
of matches, gasoline, and pride.
I thanked her for the fire that took away my shame,
then she hugged me while we cried.
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I had a really amazing bonding moment with a woman who gave me a handmade bag that said, "protect queer youth," I just wanted to write about it.