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FLOWER BOY
on childhood
it begins at 7
childish, foolish
daydreams
on gender
boys dressed in blue and girls
looking pretty in pink
the division occurs
I am a strange creature
on death
but first, a ceremony of another kind
the wilting greets me
it is a strange feeling, a first
watching someone leave, body limp
on sexuality
down the aisle
I watch him give her a bouquet of flowers
as she blushes in return
if only I could do that too
on love
and then it comes
on an axis spinning
chassis in transit
there is a season for all things
for years to be longing
at last we're belonging
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