Joe sat rocking singing drrdeedrrdeedrrdee and picking at his palm blisters.
He was my lover.
Valentin shaved and looked deep into my eyes and even leaned back once for a kiss.
He was my doorman.
Jaime's roommate died when a radio fell in the tub, and his sister wore a t-shirt that said "ZAP."
He was my pharmacist. And my lover.
Larry was frequently raped by a cousin, and his mom put him in a dress for Halloween.
He was my father.
Wilbur, a US Army captain found lying in a French gutter, was shot dead by Nazis.
He was Larry's father.
Wilbur Jr., watching his cisgender, white-on-white generations spreading before him, is a SCOTUS voter.
He is a traitor to family and country.