FOR O'SHAE

I’m enraged.

So much so that when I see his face all I can do is intensely gaze before being washed over in a river of rage.

So much so that when I replay in that video in my mind where he’s dancing—expressing joy and just trying to exist— I become gripped by an inexpressible level of anger because, by now, I know that this dance eventuates in death.

I know, by now, that an act of violence will be unleashed—full force— against the beauty and artistry of vogueing, and all that it signified in the eyes of those who hate the Other.

I know, by now

that his dancing

that his desire to be

that his longing to laugh

that his right to breath

that his right to occupy public spaces

in safety

All of that, I now know, will be met with the most harrowing of messages:

“You have no right to exist.”

His is yet another link in an escalating attack on our LGBTQiA siblings

His is yet another body that’s on the receiving end of a violence that’s fueled by bias, hate language, and a dangerous—and growing— project to mark off LGBTQI persons as underserving of any rights

Including

the right to live

A body that once danced

is now dead.

And

I’m enraged.