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It’s complicated.

Will you?

Will I?

Yes, wouldn’t you..?

Wouldn’t I?

What I mean to say is….Will you? Please ……

What are you doing?

Erm…… Doing?

Yes… Down there. I tower over you enough when you aren’t half bent and crooked…

Half bent? What is that supposed to mean?

Half bent! You have that look… that thing those people -how do you say it?- Oh, I don’t know airy and breezy…

Is this a joke? Are you really enjoying this?

I would ask you the same question. Last time I checked you were not the person I see before me…

And what person is that? 

Not this – it’s so ………….so ………… unnatural. For you, I mean.

Well, I know I’ve never been conservative but unnatural?

Rather liberal I would say. 

Ma Cherie, Will you? 

Will, I what? 

Will you come down to my level of thinking?

Are you sure you are not possessed?

I think you have confused me with some character. I’m not quite sure what it is you imply…

Look!  I will come down to your level and tarnish my finery, on one condition…

Anything. of course!

Ask me the question again?

The..  Which one?

Oh the heavens, this will never wash out -the first one!

Oh, of course. Will you?

I will…

You will – this is just marvellous!


If what? I beseech thee.

If I say I will: will you promise to remain the Gayest fiance there was ever born?

Gayest? Have you lost you….. I am a full-blooded Alpha. Is this a joke?


No. Just No.

If I say I will -will you continue to be the Gayest man I have ever seen?

Well, my love. Don’t mind if I get up off my knees- I need to think about this.

I said yes, I  will!

You are mocking me.

No. I love to see the way you look at me – T’is the gayest I have seen you yet.

Dear Lord! 

Will you? , it is just Darling.

I think, ma Cherie. I think I need to, uh, communicate a little better..

If you say you will, you may kiss me.

If I may say….. K- cos I  b like MindFuck. gotta chillax with my bros in a mo, my answer is mb. 

MB? Another mighty bastard

(Doesn’t it suck that we use text lingo instead of proper language these days)


Heart lurch

Sometimes I feel like an aged whore


Men only want me for a shag


Nice bed.I’ll nail it later.

Like nothing happened merely past the bedhead look


My features won’t betray the truth I wear on my sleeve.




And other adversities


Is my sexuality all I have to offer?

Give it some clout

No need to rinse or buffer.


Mantras ‘you’re good enough

Don’t manifest a reality I wish to create


Rage & anger

Stupidity & tears


Self-hatred has become an overdue break up with that same old date.


This is my mind speaking

My heart sighs

Then pleas

To one day be a freeborn

Wings spread airborne

Follow the winds

Nature’s heartbeat

Repaired again

Not broken nor torn

Glued back together

Reckless risk-taker let no arrow

Poison dipped

Enter my chambers

Rose-tinted glasses make dead flowers appear good.

Beneath my feet

I write these words
Green grass beneath my feet
I have a sacred homer, a babe too
Society says I’m now complete.
Distilled waters
of a balalaika, playing kind
Dismiss ice blocks jutting out
Clearly on the rocks.

Skidrow composed
with a head full of the sublime.
Not one of us can stand in all perpetuity in the sun
& shine.
Science ad
ds a rationale to inform those lacking in sense
To subtract those people who we think revolve around our orbit.
If you recognise that instinct.

If it faintly find a pulse of love
Don’t ignore this sign preordained from the unseen above.

Spend 10 million ways to capture each moment of mirth spent in your star crossed lover’s finite existence.
Think not too far in the distant

Future & imagination fuels to the furies ears echoing our doubts.
Even palm readers learn to stay away from an answer to every Question’s insistence.

If there was a moral estimation to impart from this musing
Seek out existential ideas to rekindle the hearth of hearts
Two much history already been written.

True love is a conundrum of confusing
Too much future mapping unites
soul mates in need of refusing.

Eradicate over analysing
To evade living in a nebulous cloud of doubt.

These words I write
Green grass beneath my feet.
The end doesn’t rhyme

Mirrors reflecting the next steps
Dare to take a step
No easy feat.

(Beneath my feet- stream of consciousness writing)