Oh, what are we, anyway?

we are but only men, my love,
we are so simple it hurts
we are broken
we are what we aren’t.

it’s okay,
we’re in love.

behind doors slammed shut
these walls never see sun.
we are naked, separated,
we chew quietly on meat grown cold.
we sip softly milk gone sour.
because in a world so bruising
so tainted of blood,
so full of this lust,
we are clubbed, barred, ******
and hung up to dry.
the hate our hearts see
sews them shut.

and still,
we’re
in love

pushed in stenched corners
pointed in wrong directions
laid face down,
nose turned up.
we are sleeping
when we most deserve to be awake.
we’re touching hands
when hands are just shadows and fragments
of imagination.
we’re disgusting
when we’re in the presence of other men.

it’s okay,
we’re in love.