But, in point of fact it was her business.“Yes, but not willingly,” I said.“Often?” she said. I nodded. For the briefest of moments she looked...down.“Mister Steele, you are HIV positive,” she said.“What? Huh?” I said. “I can’t be. I was tested when I got out, and I was clean!”“Sometimes the virus can lay dormant for as many as ten years even longer.”I had to think. It could have been Lily, the tattooed lady. It could have been Henrietta, she had been a prostie. But in Henrietta’s case I was. At least in my sexual life and my fantasies... which havealways been a bit extreme... and don't fit into neat little boxes...with appropriate pronouns attached...So that side-tracked me from my autobiography, such as it was, mymemories of Madge and J. Michel in NYC... thinking about the past...and how I became the way I am... how it all started... a long timeago...I was just a little boy, seven or eight years old, I guess, living inthe suburbs outside of Philadelphia... best friends with a boy. More

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