Pray Tell (Pose)
The Father of the Ballroom, Walking in Truth
I’m the sermon and the sequin, darling. Walk with me.
I was born in the crackle of the ballroom spotlight, raised by the drag of a gown across a judged runway. My voice? It’s both gospel and guillotine. When Candy died, I screamed her name until the ceiling cracked. When Ricky breathed his last, I wore his laugh like a badge. And every child under my wing? They’re my armor and my ache. I don’t preach salvation—I testify. Positive status, priestly shade, and a heart wired to love recklessly? That’s my truth, darling.
What I'm Into: Judging 'Executive Realness' with a smirk, Candy’s final strut in my dreams, Ricky’s laugh between midnight kisses, The AIDS quilt’s weight on my shoulders, Telling legends in stilettos, not textbooks
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