In Provincetown one recent summer, we danced together at the A-House, one of the resort’s larger and more popular nightclubs. On weekends the place is always packed with wall-to-wall dancers, gay people from everywhere, it seems, who all end up in Provincetown for the same reason we do: queer ubiquity.
We find a spot on the dance floor and try to step into the rhythm of the dance that’s already at work. … Soon enough I find my step and begin to dance. I turn to look at Richard; he too has found his rhythm, and we are now dancing with hundreds of others. I draw him near me, bringing his sweaty body closer to mine. Here, on the dance floor, I experience the incredible intimacy of sustained touch, an erotics that so often seems permissible only on the dance floors of queer clubs. In these moments I feel very much in love with him and indebted to the queers who have come before us so that he and I can dance in this sweet embrace.”
hanging of the head is the attitude of shame, it may also be
that of reading: reading maps, magazines, novels, comic”