I was at the Stonewall Inn,
my roommate in tow,
his boyfriend, too, dancing
upstairs, moving
in sync, to Diplo, Kygo.
Around us swayed couples,
throuples, the uncoupled.
Above us hung rows
of rainbow flags. Below us,
the linoleum vibrated.
On stage, in knee-high
leather boots, Prada G Major
danced. In my chest,
I felt the bass. In the crowd,
I felt safe. I felt loved.
And waited for the beat to drop