The results came out positive for HIV. Turns out where they there is smoke, there is fire and where there is fire, someone is going to get burned.
My bank account read a huge amount of money, though, I was not servicing grown ass men in bed doing yoga styles and shit to make them feel important for nothing. They paid generously and I made them happy no matter the consequences, that was the system.
A system that would have me queuing for ARV pills bigger than the condoms I failed to use, the rest of my wrecked life.
I stared at the test results, no tears flowed out, not even a little bit. I had felt this was coming. The shackles that held me to my past were heavier than an adult buffalo.
The men I had spent the nights with flashed before my eyes like a sequenced slide show. At the terminus of the slideshow, my grave lay wide open as if welcoming its bride.
At this point, the tear just dropped freely down my left chick and I felt every inch of it.
Belated AIDS world Day.
Words – Dennis Peters.
Model – Trica Ciku.
[Mukirivity – Ingenious photography and text made comparative]