Our Twisted Tenderness

[Naturalborn]

We love as others don’t.
We wouldn’t rid a
rose of thorns.
We crave
that sharpened crimson
glow.
We yearn for
life’s exquisite sting.

We flow with power.
Intimate.
We keep
safe
with a single
word.
We cast our spell
with just one stare,
one clever threat
or one caress,
a thousand whispered
promises, a
thousand flavors
to our kiss.

We’ve felt
the burn
of brighter suns,
the soothing
impulse to forgive,
the liberating strength
of bonds, the
loneliness
of early years…

We love as others won’t –
in fact we had to
love for two.
Didn’t we all try
to convert one
we adored
(or more)?
Didn’t we
all
evangelize to earn
approval
to be
we?
To prove how
crooked can be
sweet,
to show –despite our
silliness–
that we are lovers
who can love
like no one can?

We cherish our own
like we breathe.
Our passion won’t
concede a rest.
In twisted exile
we must seek a
scattered tribe
of
kindred souls
to seal a blood pact
and commit our
daring acts of
tenderness.

We hope for
red hot afternoons,
we hope for evenings
cool and blue,
we hope
tomorrow’s purple promise
might allow us
to disclose
once more
our open secret:

We love
like no others.