There are many ways to learn to love a woman.
But if you haven’t loved a man before,
They say there’s something scandalous about walking the line,
But something so wondrous in one being loving another.
His chest was not bulging with huge pectorals,
And it was certainly, by no means, powerful.
But before we ended this seasonal fling,
This ephemeral thing that neither of us ever defined,
His lanky arms bade my body to stop shivering
With the questions I hadn’t figured out how to ask.
“…and if you hadn’t been curious?”
Choose to never sit alone—
The cumbersome traditions
Are the grandest obstacles.
Against the ignorant Light.
He whispered something awkward and off-topic in my ear,
But I know what he meant to say was,
“You’ll find someone else.
This dying, undefined thing, will happen to you—
Lift the veil of sexuality and see me. See me.
And know that as I look back at you, whether you are a man or a woman,
You are a work of art, exotic and exquisite in your idiosyncrasies.
You are an amalgamation of colours that cannot be defined by any phrasing of political correctness.
Yes, you are the unknown colour that holds conservatism at bay.
But after the mandatory period of loneliness and dejection,
I feel born again, a phoenix in my own right,
And I know that, as I’ve done before,
I can walk down the streets of the world with my arms wide open
And my heart screaming over the tops of my lungs,
“I am ready to love again, this time even stronger and more deeply
than I ever have before.”
Let your loves be as free as the many hues that colour you,
Let it be unknown and without gender, sex, or race.
Sudden and unexpected, let curiosity be your guide.
There is no shortage of those who came before you.
Study love in all its forms, and you may discover as I have
That loving a man only helps you better love a woman.