Lillian
folk dances in a handmade dress
green and purple as crayons
and decries the lack of sense
in her fellow Idahoans. I didn’t know
splitting her Seattle hotel room would mean
sharing a Queen-sized bed while she
paws my chest, asking Why label yourself?,
saying under the right conditions she could
easily love a woman instead of
her rigid husband from the Department of Energy.
When I tell her I’ve lived in Portland half my life
she cries Don’t say that! and I have to clarify
that I don’t mean my life is half over.