i remember the day well,
when i first ran smack-bang-into
but very clear disdain;
for revealing what you had wrongly
assumed me to be.
you thought me a nice
quiet, well behaved hetrosexual
– but not even decently, coolly rebelliously gay-enough;
and discovering herself a little queer –
(too much for your taste);
i’m used to being a disappointment.
i masked-and-mirrored well, too much
and perhaps that did not happen without me;
but i’m not convinced that it is i, that owes the apology.
it is not i who is uncomfortable with who i am, and yet
its true that now i’m uncomfortable,
with this part of who you are.
so perhaps i shall, when time enough
has passed the sting of your disdain
from painful down to – well, and then;
and i will find within again the will try
and understand, without conforming who i am,
to something i am not.
neither pretended, or forgot;
and neither you pretending, but so verse might have
an ending, let me say –
i do not sigh with mean asides,
just weary, that myself might be enough
for someone, someday.