Christopher Michael, gay, gay poetry

Who Will I Be

Perfect in god’s eyes 

what if you didn’t find my body disgusting
flabby and flawed, marked by age and time
cut and mended by doctors and the ravages of illness
what if you found me beautiful in your eyes and I
too, find me the same in mine
what if you didn’t care my cock is lazy and soft
but my flabby ass a willing partner for your hard cock
what if all mirrors didn’t care, didn’t lie, didn’t flash
disapproval
my sizzled brain stopped the dizzying madness
repeated instead you’re handsome
beautiful as god made me
I can’t compare to young beauties
not compared at all, what then
would you touch me, kiss me, want me, as much as
I want to be kissed, touched, wanted
could I say in the sunlight as I’d say in darkness
come love me as I want, as I need to be loved
what if I said that without fear
shook down the walls
offered my flawed imperfections to you
knowing this is all I am
perfect because this is all there is, and
if it’s not your cup to drink, mine still runneth over
but for another
I alone could say defiant to the heavens
how perfect and beautiful I am, perfect in
my imperfections
what they will say of me dead and gone
a fabulous old queen or mean bitch,
she loved and wanted nothing else
what if I said to myself alone
you are perfect and beautiful
I love you
tears would well in my eyes as they now do
maybe today it’s true

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