Subtle desperation is grimmer
than snow.
Wanting is gayer when wanting’s not broke.

And maybe I’d fall out of practice
Lull before even begun-
Fester in my own private scrutiny,
but at least I’m not longing for you.
At least I’m not chasing
the boys I’d never wanted to.
At least mine is a secret cradled,
nurtured, unknown, and safe.