Inspired by watching the documentary: Paragraph 175
04 November 2006
18 centimeters of wood up his ass fifty years ago, and today, I'm afraid of kissing too long in public, still yet, I can't recollect a time when I suffered as much, for so little, as this man from Alsace, who hasn't spoken to a German since fury and fear raped him.
Now, I have seen the pink triangles sold as gifts of solidarity with the victims, and I have looked away, ashamed, that the very memorial profits off the Reich's grave markers.
I have heard that introverted triangles lose their power when they are pinned and sewn onto backpacks, t-shirts, lapels. Still, yet, six known survivors, thick-skinned, sad, hold life, and wait for unlikely reparations, while symbols that marked them for murder are reclaimed.