The Violence of Visibility


Every body was built to live.

But not everybody is given the chance, the tools, the support to survive.

There is war within isn’t only waged within

our cells. T cells do what they can,

but Atripla cannot combat the words of ma

and pa that hit upon skulls and hearts like

bats on balls or balls flying into mits. There

is no such thing as being undetectable when

your status is seen as a public good until it is dis-closed. When open,

it becomes a wound you didn’t know was festering.

No warning.

What you thought was antiseptic, was simply a drug to lure you

into a drunken step toward criminalization. No need for consent.

Positive.

Negative.

Neutral.

There is no power, no right, ability to say yes because poz folks can’t

fuck under law. Can’t make love. Can’t spit. No matter how undetectable they are–if they know or dis-close

that status. Only way to make love, is to fuck yourself.

Don’t get tested.

Don’t take meds.

Don’t disclose.

Stay closed off to your body and then,

just maybe,

you’ll have a defense. The court forgives those that

fuck without a clue–despite the advent of death creeping. But the

survivor is damned despite her inability to transmit. Some might say

it’s simply scientific ignorance or social stigma but those of us who know

know

there is no mercy for queer,

poz,

colored.

Just a cell in somebody’s prison, because you chose to know the molecular

pieces of you and share those truths. Silly.

ain’t it?

The truth will lock you up.

You weren’t meant to survive on these lands,

knowing yourself. Ignorance is deadly bliss and if you want to live,

that is how you must do it.

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