Gay Man in Love

Beauty is not always right,
Not always symmetrical, never always a gaze
At what you don’t possess,
And the other does. Beauty is more
Obvious, stranger, mirroring
A sculpture that can never be paired
In mythology or inside the pages of the bible,
But lives in the souls of those,
Who drift from the time-eroding institutions
Of gender relations, to witness,
How on the top of a pseudostem
One can house a banana heart,
Which in the stranglehold of a feeling,
Preserves a long-lived tradition
That rarely sums up to an eternity,
But is protracted to a lengthy lease.
And a plant that bears water-lodged leaves,
And has no worth for seeds, can be
Seen swaying in the mildest mistral,
Opposing a careless myth, manifesting
The beauty of what it takes,
To love and be loved, as a perennial.

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