He kissed me
And I should
Have slapped him.
I should have
Become violent
Towards him.
Him, this little man
With soft features
And a beautiful
Smile.
Him, the only man
Who looked beyond
My masculine posturing
And saw me as I am.
As I am?
What am I?
Every day, I would
Look in the mirror
And ask myself that
Question.
The woman of the
Evening, sleeping
Fitfully in my bed
And still I felt...
Dissatisfied.
That is until
He kissed me
And the Pandora's box
Sprung open and
Although I tried
To slam it shut,
Its lid would spring
Open.
Instead of all
Manners of evil
And strife, out
Came my truth.
Instead of becoming
Violent, I craved
His touch, I wanted
More. My thirst,
A thirst I never
Knew I had,
Grew stronger.
He smiled.
A knowing smile.
Then extended his hand.
I took it
Without hesitation
And was led
To his apartment.
Instead of closing
The now gaping box,
I was going to explore it
And in doing so,
I will at last
Answer the question,
Who am I?
Friday, August 14, 2015
gay,
homosexuality,
love,
Original,
Original Poem,
original poetry,
poem,
poems,
poetry
Who Am I
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1 comment:
I thought that was a great piece, lovely.
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