I recently asked Amy why a particular new work of theirs had such a gay slant and they said "just redressing the balance," so that's me told: I ought to do more. I may have to take advice.
Romance is only one of two ways to read this poem. The other is about being an outsider; about teaming up with another outsider to help take on the world. However this interpretation can still circle back to the gay angle since growing up gay could be what makes the girl an outsider in the first place.
So the possibility that one or both of these girls is falling in love is entirely there. I've not explicitly filled in their ages (but for reading Romeo and Juliet in drama they would be late teens I'd think.) A gay, female friend did tell me that this is exactly how she felt about another girl back when they were are school...
...so I've given this the LGBTQ tag, and you can make up your own mind.
Girl, unaccompanied
Lately she's been singing out of key
and I found this a revelation. In choir
on Thursday afternoons, she stands in front of me
and I lurk behind one perfect shoulder,
embedded in her faintest scent and try
not to be obvious. Also
lately she's been dressing kind-of wild,
while I maintain my camouflage
of sweatshirts, jeans — only the beige ribbon
in my hair. It's lately, I've been...
restless with my life, of writing my name
twelve coloured on the backs of books; but she
relentless in drama (it's Friday now) looks wry
reads Juliet as suicidal assassin and I
need to know if anything has changed.
So I meander in her spinning wake,
scuffing ash and torn pages
to find the smallest flowers still dancing
in the aftermath. Latest is: she spoke to me
in maths, mocked obsessing on precision —
on getting it right every time. We laughed
and I feel daft, but drift towards a strategy
where I'm the girl who can't keep the beat
and she's the girl who likes to sing off key.
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