Why do you care so much are you gay?
A question I remember often being asked.
How illogical it is to assume your child
will be anything other than straight,
to be raised on the belief that other
was either a phase or a sin.
Maybe I just care about people as human beings -
or maybe there was something more to it.
How wrong it felt to push my sexuality in a corner
and pretend it did not exist.

Once I pushed past that,
the feeling was surreal.
Finally embracing your true self
is a feeling you never forget.
I did not choose this;
To fall in love with words, personalities, feelings,
never confined to gender,
but I have accepted it.
That is what is most liberating.
I feel free.
~ I.M

i was only taught one way

walking a straight line

the dance felt right but only halfway

i never understood why

hiding in repulsion

at what i might be

i didn't want to walk in circles

i preferred my simple dance

ignoring my feelings came rather sudden

i didn't understand at all

trying different sorts of line dances

somehow didnt feel right

i found one right in the middle

didn't join until now

full of shame at how depraved i was

for me to want to be in a different dance

would all my friends be in question

would my parents look at me in withering disappointment

too late

i stepped in

In the mirror
the hickey looks like
lipstick. When I rub
my neck
her teeth stay
stuck like kissy lips
on mirrors
of girly girls.
On the surface
the blue-blood egret
and his
white-toothed egret
friend look like
enemies.
They share the lake’s
surface like comrades splitting a spliff
during war.
The mirror’s surface
reflects my haggard
face.
The kiss on my neck brings me pleasure
that is difficult to peck in the eddy formed after she swelled along my desire.

In the mirror:    
his naked body
my naked body
like the cartilages
of comrades marching back
to their bombed base.
That night he finished quiet like the veteran
egret pecking his prey.
That night I spread––
the eddy after the prey was pecked. On my surface I can’t find any traces
of his breath or his pecks. The mirror’s surface reflects our haggard love––
tired of slithering away
from egret beaks
finding it difficult
to breathe
lifting its long neck
above the swell
in the eddy
in this sea.

how does one go about expressing their love to a girl?
I've never felt like this about a girl, before
but everything - my heart, pounding and vulnerable and so impossibly fragile - now seems to depend on
her.
her laughter is like the colour yellow
and it turns my vision hazy every time
the expression she wears is innocent and unassuming
but those hazel eyes are white-hot fire
she's got this rosewood hair that floats around her, ethereal,
her hands are gentle, delicate
her heart is so full of love
her arms, filled with kidness
she turns the blood in my veins to crackling flames.
look at her mouth.
what can I say. how can I vocalize this kind of want. this kind of hunger.



I'd never tell. no, I'd never say a word.

I’m sorry
The more I’m with you
The more I realize
How beautiful she is

The more I’m with you
The more I appreciate her delicate hands

The more I hear your shallow words
The more I realize how heavy hers are.
That every sentence that slips by her lips
Is so carefully crafted
But with barely any effort

That just shows
How strong her mind is
And how simple yours is.

You’re too big
How am I supposed to see you
Eye to eye?
But I can look her in the eyes
And they are filled with so much happiness
Genuine happiness
When she sees my face.