Lookit me.
This street is mine.
My walk.
My swing.

Lookit this
***** on the *****.
(Yes!)

Lookit that,
******* on the chest.
(Say what?!)

Privilege? I'm filled with love my
mother made sure I can't escape.

I won't use the public bathroom, then.
I love you.
I won't meet your eyes with mine, because I
I love you.
I won't try to find the return address, as
I love too much to quantify my chances.

Privilege? I'm glad you're so concerned
with the politics of my personhood.

What I wouldn't give to share a romantic moment.