Those nearest
and dearest
don’t hear
or see us
at times
because they can
remain blinded
by their own lives.
My home is your home;
what’s mine is yours
what’s yours is mine:
Yours is mine
watch me turn a blind eye
watch me lie
“We are equal”
They see us as
exaggerating radicals
making battles
where peace prevails
shattering their perspective
by making concrete
their advantage point,
the connection between
their heteronormativity
and our lived inequity
Can I ask you a question?
I don’t understand
Who’s the man?
How can I brand you?
so I can see
so we can be
“We are the same”
Delegitimizing
minimizing
the detainment of our
deviation,
how live and let live
isn’t live and let thrive
we’ll survive
So sex
…yes that’s next
how do you?
There isn’t a
penis present
so here it is
narrowing
and entering
into you
“We are the same”
This phallocentric tendency
isn’t just diminishing me
but their own
female,
free-of-male
sexuality.
Only his
Erect flesh
Makes the act correct?
I guess…
Why are you offended?
This can be men-did.
We can work this out
into a peace
and ease that will
please this
place of power
I can judge you from
Look I’m so evolved
and so involved
and invested,
and molesting your
intimate life.
I’m open-minded
I, don’t
mind
my minor mistakes,
give me a break
“We are the same”
Interrogating and
negating
isn’t creating,
isn’t nurturing
my future.
Stereotypes
grow ripe
in the light
of your assumptions.
Seeds from the quick,
cheap, consumption
of my life.
But in that
surviving act,
perhaps
we are the same
