It's in the polish on her nails
And the crook of his grin,
In their coloured-in converse
And the paint on their skin,
It's in the strength of her smile
When her pun makes someone groan,
It's in the way he yells out queen songs when he knows he's home alone,
It's in the ankle bracelet hidden in the cuffing of his jeans,
It's in the way she says she's bi herself
And pray that they know what she means,
It's in the way they'll cross their fingers when they say 'I like your boots',
It's the way that her eyes linger when a finger gun she shoots,
It's in the pink of their shirt;
The purple of her skirt;
In the blue of his eyes
And maybe the hurt
But it's in the silence of the language-
The hope, the possibility,
The silent, sudden wonder:
"Could they be just like me?"
—-
Second one! I'm keeping this up! Just a quick, dumb poem because I had a long day today. Please note, I am not bi and I don't claim to speak from experience, I am terrified of being in any way offensive to anyone, so I'm extremely sorry if I got something wrong here, please tell me if I did.
YOU ARE READING
It's... from the challenge about pride
Short StoryIt's the nonsense I wrote around the pride challenge from @DauntlessShadowIce1. Obviously. I literally have one other thing on here.
