for the boy, with flowers in his mouth

for all people, ashamed of their sexuality - there is this boy who writes beautiful poems about his sexual orientation - i hope, if you could read this, you find comfort in these words

who went waltzing down
the avenue to his spot
in the middle of lost,
gathering flowers for me,
i let him wear my dress,
he didn't so much look
at my nakedness, said
he wasn't ashamed of me,
but his father can't bear
to look at him, sad,
but he's full of hope,
they'll come across,
together, two men,
both beautiful, wondering
about the female form
of beauty, in a totally
different way, one,
not being the other,
but somehow both the same,
the same face of love,
the same face of humanity