Healthy people shouldn't talk about shame

A few days ago, I sent a follow-up question to an interviewee and he responded, "Healthy people shouldn't talk about shame." I considered this rather odd since he'd already spoken variously about the ugliness his shame created when he finally came out.

I'm still mulling over his pat statment but, for now, here's an excerpt of my response--harmonized with a story from another interview:

Healthy people shouldn’t talk about shame

Did theirs loosen and pull away
like baby teeth?
Can they run tongues across
where hollowed sockets have grown over,
now smooth with flesh?

Or if they open wide enough,
cutting through insistent and sharp,
are the terrible tearing crushing teeth
that bite down
as any must?

I.

At the coffeehouse,
Jason and I sat drinking and joking around.
Mama shot me an ugly look
from the next table.

What?

We’ll talk about it when we get home.

Spanish, always the rope between us,
tightened,
tugged against my 12 year-old body,
cut into my hands.

II.

Why were you looking at him
that way?

What way?

Like you should be looking
at a girl.

III.

Tell me now
if I’m going to have a son
or not.

Breath

Someone I interviewed recently sent me this about David Carradine's death and the larger implications of shame and danger in acting out fetishes. I'm fascinated by the phrase "erotic breath play." It's voluntary strangulation.

In the wake of Carradine's death, another interviewee ("N") recalled how a guy mistook N's solid grip (around his shoulders near the neck) as N's attempt to strangle him slightly. N wasn't trying to do that at all but the guy asked him to "do it harder...and use both hands." I could make the transition cleaner here but how close is breath play to wanting to be called "nigger" while you're fucked or wanting to fist someone until there's blood on your knuckles?