- What if, - I ask him one gloomy winter evening, -

- What if I'd re-designed my body slightly,
re-designed myself into a naughty
naughty beautiful boy,
not less naughty and beautiful than I am a girl,
what'd we do?

He instantly makes that serious face,
takes me firmly by the left elbow,
and delicately,
as if weary of scaring off a raindeer,
pulls me towards himself.
Then, with ever-growing impatience,
hi swiftly spins me around,
presses my back against his waist,
and my goofy face with that silly smile
faces the dawn...
And just then,
until the chilling numbness in my nape,
until the liquid clayness in my vertebra,
until the melting weakness in my limbs,
until the menthol emptiness
in my cleared brains,
he ardently demonstrates me,
just how
perfectly fine
we'd survived
being completely gay.