Expressing to the other
who they cannot
bone, fuck, lick or kiss…
Feels a little silly—
intrusive
through the veils of what
we’ve done before.

Now we are playing Mom and Dad
ready to wag a finger
in front of the other’s face
while being bulldozed on the inside
till our tired, young souls fall down.

And our bodies are not perfect,
but when we exude preciousness but also
ferocity
we’ll bloom like fruit on trees like in
the Garden of Eden.

I am not Eve
and you are not Adam.
And we never will be and finally that is okay.
I most definitely was not made from you.
Just like there is no doubt that you were not made from me.

And we hear No Doubt play in the cafe
and the farthest thing from our minds is
the paper due tomorrow
or how disappointing we feel.
Because Gwen just got us going.

But I grow,
like the sunflower-heart in my chest.
Tomorrow is brighter because I say so.
I feel power through my stem-limbs.
It’s an honor to grow beside such a strong tree,
even if I’m cold sometimes from the cast of a shadow.