Sexuality is fluid like soup served at a dinner party.
Served at a party of people who are comfortable with their identity and place.
Unlike me.
Which letter is mine exactly?
Can I have the L please?
Or maybe a B would taste better with a topping.
Cheese?
I'm not a fan of G personally,
But pass it down the table I know someone who will enjoy it more.
Maybe I'll like Q?
If not I can try others and then I'll find one, I'm sure.
Maybe there's flavour bursting from the tiny plus pasta littering the dish?
Actually that one made me feel a bit sick.
Maybe A is the letter for me?
Because I really can't stomach T.
It seems to be the best on the plate.
But I can't shake the uneasy feeling,
That this might be out of date.
27.11.15
2.12.15
20.3.16
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Paintbox
PoetryPoems from the inner corners of my brain, under my nails and the end of my paintbrush.
