You’re a dude, he’s a dude, she’s a dude, your mom’s a dude.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.
—Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets
And then I felt sad because I realized that once people are broken in certain ways, they can’t ever be fixed, and this is something nobody ever tells you when you are young and it never fails to surprise you as you grow older as you see the people in your life break one by one. You wonder when your turn is going to be, or if it’s already happened.
And I just want to feel your breath
On my neck
And your breasts
On my chest
And I just want to feel your lips
On my cheek
Telling me I’ll be okay
When I’m feeling awfully weak
And I just want to see your eyes
Soft orbs of blue
Too mature for your time
And I just want to hear your voice
Whispering softly in my ear
Be here with me
I can’t handle this distance
Not only of miles, but of mind
I never could catch you
But god how long I tried.