The girl I’m dating isn’t
– a girl, that is.
I think I’m dating a man.
I may be dating a man.
Good god!
I’m dating a man!

She appreciates females
more than any other female I’ve met..
She talks about women she’s dated
which used to get me hot
until I realized it wasn’t a sexy bi thing
it was creepy. She’s a man!

When I try to touch her
she shies me away
returning my hands
before putting hers
all over me.
And then there’s where
she puts other things…
I’ve been all right with that
for the last few weeks
but I’m beginning to suspect something;
what is she trying to hide?
I like her.
She’s beautiful, considerate,
loving and smart.
She may be the best girl I’ve ever had
but it might be because she’s like a naturalized citizen
who knows more about my country than I ever could.
There is no zealot like a recent convert
– and she’s ever so zealous.

She has something to prove
something to hide
and I suspect that
the latter
is a dong.

I’m dating a man.
And I know I should be all right with that.
I’ve seen enough movies to know
that true love need not be defied by all the obstacles in the world
like bigoted cultures
or biology
or the rampant deceit involved in our relationship
or the paranoia I may be exhibiting right now.
I know that just because everything between us is a lie
is no reason for me not to be more caring
open-mindedly evolved.
I should see beyond the box.
I should be all those things.
I should…

Wait’ll my parents hear
I’m dating a dude…