san francisco date no. 1 even the big numbers are closer to zero than they are to infinity the sky above us is infinite but capped with fog there are no stars and his face is lit in bas-relief by the Safeway sign of the old market where Armistead Maupin wrote about desperate women going to find husbands the bar was lit with edison lights there is a metaphor in here somewhere his eyes are blue and clear the bartender can tell that this is a first date my palms are sweaty so i grip the crystal of my glass and let the condensation of the ice run into my hand our first embrace felt like home i am so far from done with the closet but as we crossed the rainbow painted street i pointed at the triangle of lights on the hillside and suddenly walking side by side felt like doing the tango
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