by Sophie Laing
When I walk home I imagine I’m gay
feels like a lighter step.
When I’m baking in the kitchen I imagine I’m gay
and I don’t feel as hungry for everything I make.
When I’m out of the shower and getting ready to sleep
I imagine I’m gay, picturing who might be beside me
thinking about what we will talk about
how there would be some little laughs in between
the few parts of our days we didn’t already talk about.
When I’m on a run, I imagine I’m gay
perhaps have a running partner or a biking partner
or am walking hand in hand to a sweet little neighborhood café.
When I’m out getting coffee, I imagine I’m gay
I think about what I’m wearing, I think about what my partner might be wearing
I think about how people might look at us.
I stare too long at the queer couples in the coffeeshop.
But I also smile to myself, my past self, my future self
and imagine that there’s a lot that can change in a year.
Sophie Laing is an upstate New Yorker who has been writing poetry since she was a kid. Her work has also appeared in Shards.