It is not my instinct to love a woman
who speaks with ease
It is not my instinct to love a spider
who hunts in trees,
But I

could tell you one thing:
When I was young,
I hated spiders
I also hated cooked carrots

Then I learned
to give things a second chance

How do you do?
I might fancy you...
or him, or her
or them

What was once detested
is now invested
in my meal
in my life

Who was once just a passerby,
I now sit and wander why
not infuse love in them?

Like tasting new fruit,
Like trying new things,

Must we always reject
what remains
after we cast out our pleasures
and resist our pains?

Could a man's lips to a man
be something so vein?
A woman's ******* in her hand,
something so insane?

We fear what we cannot grasp
We laugh at what is not funny
We do what we are habituated to,
but life is more than old and new

Acceptance is obtained
when one accepts
When one accepts,
they can run miles,
can be anything, anyone
What fun!

Gayety is great
*** is good
Different kinds of trees
make different kinds of wood
When one learns about wood
all wood seems good,
because all wood is good

After realizing this fact,
a weight is lifted
off the shoulders
and into the light,
where all can see

Those left behind,
will worship ancient shrines
with answers from yesterday
yearning to explain today

Those picky,
those sickly,
the one's who hate veggies
the one's who can't see
what a shame to be...

To dismiss the colour pink
when one grows up as a tomboy;
as a  stubbornness  
with a covenant
of no change

Homosexuality as a learned behavior,
Heterosexuality as an instinct;
Objektophilie...
vise versa, vise versa:
who cares! Nowhere

Like tasting new fruit,
the acceptance of taste
will form
what was never there before
If not,
this fruit will disappear,
never to exist in your presence
without hate