Every morning I greet the sun smelling like jasmine and spice the rays roll through my window bend nicely and tip their hats like good gentlemen Only to figure out that I am a man
Surprised and Bent waves stiffen up in their stride as they switch between reaching down to kiss my hand something they subconsciously planned to do ever since that smell of sensual perfume heated up even the hottest, and the coolest made them too woozy to stand to giving an improvised hand shake A clumsy dance between the fingertips of the prejudged And the disappointed As if the swirls in their palms anointed my unexpected presence Uncomfortably appealing
Their mothers told them not to place judgment on a first impression that they made, drowned in a sensual stupor Of pretty scents distributed into the atmosphere but then my personality my mannerisms And the way I walk and talk WAFTED into their nostrils like some woman dolled up before a date with no one to sit alone and wait for some wreck of a man to pay a visit It’s a chauvinistic ******* This scent is Until they see that this jaw line Is what it clings to their nostrils and their eyes seem to not agree on what is me
I tell you I wake up smelling like jasmine and spices like a woman who spent all night in sin taking pleasure from her vices With sweet smelling oils contained in florally adorned vials, and i waft into every man and woman’s nostrils
and eyes say man but noses always seem to quarrel with eyes Because to nostrils sensory surprise It smells woman so it seems the only logical compromise must be something in between these sensory organs so caught up in stereotypes Eyes bicker with ears and noses And fingertips Quick judgments followed by Categories trying to make the puzzle piece make sense Or make do with what makes people feel at ease To make the absolutely effeminate straight male Fit With all the other puzzle pieces
It seems I’m a scratch and sniff Where you scratch the picture of cinnamon And smell jasmine So was I packaged wrong? No I was manufactured just right The smell was an add-on That was added one night where i spent an entire evening in love with someone I lost the next day and in our own way I slaved her body with oils That smelt of jasmine and spice And I wasn’t ashamed of it they caressed us and gave every motion an unstoppable velocity every situation was slippery and things that shouldn’t have been almost came to be
as we slept the oils clocked out and slid down our still interlocked bodies and into the bedspread where it opened up its homestead buried its dead, started families and grew in number until the population of the smell was too strong too strong and the one I shared the smell with was gone
but i hold that night fondly i hold it above my head in all its glory and when i am judged by my scent and questioned of my sexuality i just tell them I am being the scent i smelled when i discovered my masculinity and that smell sank into my bed sheets As an non-removable reminder Of days past embracing my own tendencies And a girl who I waved farewell to And never gave that part of myself to i am 100% man until i find the right person a beautiful sight in the sunlight and when night falls and i can’t see them at all i can find even more things i like to take that from me and i will give it up gladly and find what it really means to be truly in-between
I’ve found no one is in-between because of their scent There is no in-between except In between man and woman Man and man Woman and woman a subtle in between that you can only find When you gaze into another’s eyes And read three letter words imprinted on their iris Only written for you And discover what can really exist between two So let’s all realize that whoever we are We all strive to be in-between