This came to me in a dream.
Sometimes, dreams hold the keys to your creative innards, the threads of which you must then pull out and knit together, make a boutonniere of sorts, and make a peace offering.
To cleanse the self. And, to gather your innermost self.
Sometimes, it is the only way to release that part of you, to release what is inevitably you, and yours.
My short fiction piece (my most queer piece, and I do not say this lightly), “Regular,” is in the last issue (themed: The Erotics of a Queer Fantastique) of LIES/ISLE. You can read it here. And, trust me, there is nothing regular about this one.