to be seen in body

I want to be a body : as a means to work in a world that unravels through my perception.

To be a body, to embrace this form, is way to proclaim your being HERE against the threat of being erased.

The outline of this silhouette changes as outside forces collaborate to change the position of the light.

But through the accumulation of this movement, I’m still here. I’m steady because I want to be seen.

In Brazil it felt like I was always being seen. Every guy I met asking, “Where are you from?” The question grew into the chorus of embodiment.

The spectacle of being seen as outsider is always uncomfortable, but it also gave me a freedom I hadn’t experienced before:

To slip out of shirt sleeves, to unbutton trousers and watch them slide slowly down my legs, and let other men stare at the magenta briefs, tight against every curve.

My words, carefully planned and deliberately articulated, a re-dressing with language, if I so desired. I could also strip down entirely to become an object of worship or choose to be obscured again, silhouetted against the light, enigmatic.

I want to be a body : to play out internal fantasy in a world that needs more light, that needs more clarity of vision.

I want to be a body / I want to embrace my body because the knowledge I have of this form is constantly shifting and slipping away.

I want to be a body : to let my tongue and lips inflect a queerer taste of direction. To be freerer and more in control, even if sometimes this control is illusory.