take these pages, and call my name forever -- RA

he sets the mug down careful, ceramic on glass, 

pushes it an inch across the counter to me.

I could make a joke about liking my coffee the color of

skin, your skin, dark skin, weathered skin,

but your eyes are tired so I don't.

in another hour they will be here, and our peace

and the slow climb of my lust will be interrupted.

we will start again another day, with another mug.

I do not want the secondhand respect that comes

with being attached to the name and body of a man.

for acknowledging ownership to the world, for

publicly admitting that we fuck 

as couples ought to do (oh I bet she can suck it good,

have you seen that ass, she probably get real wild)

I am seen, at last: accoutrement, accompaniment, 

the subtitle in this sequence of events.

take my name, and write these pages of yourself:

do you like how I look, and speak, and act?

it can all be modified for the sake of your senses.

I try to ignore the groveling desperation 

that crawls inside my guts: let me learn, I can 

do better, be more, speak less. I can paint this up

or stress it down, what would you like? show me 

and I will only be seen as what you desire.