01 02
03 Excuse me, do you have ovaries? I really like you But im not quite sure what parts you have I like your hair And I like the way you talk And I’m sure I want to touch whatever is in your pants But how do I ask What exactly that is? And you started to talk dirty to me But when you asked what I wanted you to do to me, I didn’t know how to respond. Because it all depends on whether you pee standing up or sitting down. And with a name like Shannon or Chris, how am I supposed to know? I try to wait and watch when you go to the bathroom But you never go when we are out The way your hair just barely falls into your green eyes Make me swear it doesn’t matter I will work whatever tools with which you are equipped And I introduce you as my love interest And you look over at me and stifle a laugh And I hold your hand And don’t tell you its because by date three I still haven’t figured it out. Do you have ovaries?——————————————————————————————————————————
Labels: poem, queer poetry
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