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@ 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
BlueShift, 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?
J-Called
