I am write this posting as part of LGBT+ Pride Month. I know it is not for everyone. It is a celebration of Queer Love. Wat jy daarmee maak, is jou besluit. Dit is nie bedoel om seer te maak of te skok nie. Jy het altyd die keuse om dit nie te lees nie.

To Connie

We met here on Twitter. She was posting about her process.

I reached out to her; we decided to have coffee in a public space. I was standing outside, and I saw her walking out – to come fetch me. A ballerina in grey boots.

I wake up with her; I see her laying next to me.  At night I turn with her, I feel the rhythm of her body.

In the morning we start to kiss, she kisses me and I kiss her breasts. She is tender, I love her. She knows sex is difficult for me. I do not like to look at it. She knows this, she distracts me; lets me focus on the other parts of my body.

We watch Steven Universe, she cries, she laughs.

We watch Annihilation, we talk about it, we get the trilogy, and I finish the first book, but get distracted. She finishes the trilogy; the Southern Reach becomes part of our life.

We go to the mall, people look, she keeps holding my hand.

We talk about the Sandman, she tells me about Ursula Le Guin. I am sad that the old Dream has to die, but she explains to me that it was necessary.

Her mother took her to the train station when she was young, she buys second-hand comics. She tells me this, thirty years later.

I meet her friends…Felix, Anthony, and she becomes fuller as a person. I become fuller as a person.

She is cold, she has to get into her fuzzies. She is warm and protected. Every night is a cosplay, but it is real.

I hold her, she wiggles, I ask: “Are you okay?” She says: “I am happy.”

I meet her sister. Sister says, “I have never thought of her as a brother.” She was her sibling, now and always, her sister.

She asks me about anarchism (me: white, Afrikaner, privileged, Calvinist etc. – always feeling guilty, knows shit about this world.). I take a book out from the library about anarchism; she writes about it, she is planning to include it in her game.

Yes, love is a game of you, but also a game of us.

Epilogue: On the same day that I wrote this post, we also watched Sense 8, the finale together. You should probably watch it, if you really want to understand the significance of the pink dildo.