Kaleidoscope Creatures

Butch dommy muscle mommy

Teaching us to fuck the floors.

Are the floors preganté?


Stomping grounds of the perennial outsiders

Building community in spaces shared.

Rooms and foods and cuddle puddles

In (n+1) floofs and whispered care.


A blue haired they reminds me of my home:

They are familiar with where I used to dance.

Home it is that I feel here,

Dancing close with all these queers.


I am lifted, body and spirit,

By a dancer half my size.

Their body: fulcrum and lever.

Upon them, I could move the world.


Liberation found in steps unknown,

Twirling to fusions of ritual and invitation.

Violence cannot find that which is



Partnered, triples, 'cules of twelve.

Weaving leading into following hands

And limbs and backs and spins,

I find myself in the mix of reflections.

Mirrors of self, refractions of affinities:

Brief infinities through which my light can shine

And create shapes with which to undefine,

Unlearn, and find: who am I when I am safe?

I am safe at home.


Bailarinos, no hay pista de baile.

Bailarinos, son tus movimientos

El baile y nada mas.