We come to dance In six-inch stiletto heels Hips in motion Spinning as we ride the swell of a bass drum Quaking the foundation of a culture Built on the bones of children they call “those people” We come for the disco balls Glitter makeup and butterfly lashes Cheeks cut and high drawn eyebrows We are painted for the gods And they will see us even after they place black bags over our heads Telling us to hide our faces We come to sing After they beat us in the alleys for choosing to believe Water from the Christ and whiskey on ice Might do better than promises in healing the wounds they give us And the music we play Brings grace to the fray and sews up the torn soul We light candles And remember when they came Armed with stones to cleanse us of our “sin” even after Love has been written on our skin in cherry bright lipstick They cannot touch our fire As the air of “this time” enflames it They come with bullets We come to dance - R.R. Tavárez [This poem is in honor of the lives taken at Club Q during a shooting and hate crime against the Queer community: Ashley Paugh (she/her), Daniel Aston (he/him), Derrick Rump (he/him), Raymond Green Vance (he/him), Kelly Loving (she/her). ] Photo by Alexander Grey.