This is cross-posted on Ryze.
Let’s elevate the discussion right now.
Let’s talk of high-minded things.
High-minded things such as, perhaps,
Love—the whole rainbow range.
The whole rainbow range—to coin a cliché—a spectrum,
No less—which will you take?
Will you take sister-love, maternal, same-sex?
Will you make-your-own-hyphen or take it straight?
Take it straight or talk it direct
It doesn’t really matter—
Matter, mind, blood and bone,
Sweat, semen, effusion of verse—love’s
Love. A mistress whose eyes
Are nothing like the sun, or the hero—
The hero who said he could not love me
Loved he not honour more.
More or less in degree, and for long enough now, they
Have snatched the words from my love.
My love is claiming the words
That have been so long gone now.
Now is not the time for high-mindedness
Or ways to elevate my soul.
My soul is learning to find the caress
In the touch of this new tongue on mine.