Playing on the hot silky sand

Building a maze glued together

With water from my bucket

My castle

Protected from the monsters

Projecting my flapping arms

Wiggling like a snake

The red pale flying

What did my father think, filming me?

That I would be mad fun of

For being a skeleton

Feminine boy

When I watched the 8-millimeter film

As an adult

How could I be kind to myself

And not abhor the image

Was this the last time I was happy child

Before getting decimated in

Garden City Park kindergarten?