For those who died in their closets
And became the skeletons haunting lovers.

Those who cant live without the thought of hands touching another, but can’t see sunshine in their partners eyes.

The vampires, slinking through shadows, feeding their want while fearing a mistake.

Eyes are not kind to love misunderstood;
Fists worse.

When judgement offers burning cross, hangman’s noose, pick-up truck persecution;
Remember your skin is more than ebony glitter.

Your voice is greater than the wind.