Thursday, September 20, 2007



“Come live with me,” you say. Who could resist?
“But not with me—we need a larger place.
So buy one, move, uproot yourself, find work.”

“Too risky!” I just fail to get the the gist.

“I love you—not enough to share my space,

Not even for a while.” Another jerk

On chains already chafing—and I’m pissed.

It seems you want my kiss, then wipe your face.

Don’t tell me “I’m a Cancer, it’s a quirk.”

I love you—you’re not some guy on a list.

I have no list, small hope, small faith, less grace,

But if you help me, we can make it work.

The whiplash takes its toll, still I pursue

Whatever path will bring me close to you.


You understand much more than all the rest,
But even you don’t understand it all.

How could you, when I’m not so sure that I

Can claim to have completely passed that test?

It’s not that your sweet head or heart’s too small,

Your empathy falls short, or you don’t try.

If anything, you take my part with zest

So zealous that it makes me want to bawl.

But in some ways our lives were black to white:

I married at the age you left the nest,

And all those years that love held me in thrall

Were years of love and joy, and not a lie.

I won’t say leaving wasn’t liberation

It was, but at the price of mutilation.


Perverse and polymorphous, I am told,
Is what I am, and I can see it’s true—

I walk both sides of almost every street:

My contradictions truly manifold.

I’m top and bottom, gay and straight, so you

Should understand I’m dancing off the beat

No matter what you hear, or play. Don’t scold;

I’m not black as I’m painted, and I’m blue.

The end of my old life left me completely

Dead at heart till you, my heart of gold,

Showed me the half I’d long suppressed had new

Life in it, life to make my new life sweet.

Though what we have is good, and good for me,

I must make peace with multiplicity.


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