There was a time,
Two sisters enquired about you.
Two brothers joked,
Made my face flush.
A mother and a father,
Anxiously asked for your name
But I, I only loved with possession,
Groped between your breasts,
Pushing them away, looking for the heart,
Forgetting myself, and my manners
Kept awake by your self-consciousness,
I tried to cling onto your heart,
Tried to fill those self-conscious spaces
Wondering what manner of love is this,
I suckle your breast like a child
And make love to you like a man
And then,
What an in-between world is this
Not yet a child in you,
No longer only your man
Eagerly waiting, will I be a boy or a girl?
I giggle hard, kick hard,
Roll over hard, laughing hard,
While you, palms on your stomach
Say you never had it so hard,
And swear, “What manner of love this is…!
No more, no no no, no more!”
