Disbelieving

We all have flaws and weak knees.

For me, it is in the man’s arms,

his face, his chest, his hair,

but never his penis, if he were to even have one.

It may as well be a snake.

Are snakes that small?

No,

and they are much more beautiful.

Dick pics are such a turn-off.

Let my man be clothed,

at least,

down there.

Disbelieving.

For I could love only as best as I could,

to be classified as incomplete,

either from hatred or pity,

some sorry form of recognition.

Most often though it is just nothing.

“You’re just gay.”

“You’re just a faggot.”

I’ll show you a faggot.