Hourglass Figures

I stare without inhibitions.
I stare because—whatever my mouth says—my eyes don’t listen
and if you don’t like what I’m seeing, and you suggest a revision,

Then change this reality; not my perception.
Turn the hourglass.

When I was in 4th grade, I learned about boobs;
not because it was something I would choose to look at
or because I was peaking;

I wasn’t looking for trouble: it was just what I was seeing.

And now I wear my hair long.
I’m taught that sometime, the blues are a choral song:
that despite the color, we’re all part of The One
God Love Earth;
the end has come.

This world spins backwards:
it inhales my breath;
it gives birth to death;
and if I try to do right,
It takes what is left of the wrongs;
the lines in the songs that we erase;
the words we don’t say, but we mean;
the spaces we don’t see in between what is seen.
Give me space back
and if I’m turning green,
it’s not envy, but nausea, that’s making me clean.

I can’t see why you’re staring
when I’m wearing a deep v.
My hairy chest is scaring people
hoping to see me
with proper precautions of ensuring you don’t see
the me I be is free to be
the he that we agree to be
a man.

And this is not what I planned to look like:
I didn’t try to be this natural,
this hairy, or white.
And if I don’t look right,
you might not like what you see,
but this is not your social media:
you don’t need to accept me.

We’re taught to stare;
to care about the details;
to believe that pigtails are handlebars;
and mustaches are handlebars;
and minors can’t handle bars
because only adults are alcoholics.

But we don’t see the damage our mouths make:
the mistakes we create
when we take a breath.
We use the right to speak
and people breathe what is left,
and only when it’s cancerous
does a boob become abreast.
We don’t see, we’re just staring
in visual theft.

These are the truths I live with:
because our lives are out of focus,
we’re too broken to fix
our eyes on anything with purpose,
but we’re ignorant parents
who judge pedophiles and sluts
by their outward appearance.

And we don’t look at what’s happening,
we miss the world to wish on stars,
and we think that cars
will take us places
faster than where we are.

But we are here
to see more than this existence,
and we don’t get closer from adding more distance,
and we may never be the same if we realize we are different,
but I see this because I look without inhibitions.

This world is not an oyster
that we have to break open:
we just have to learn to treasure
the present moment we are given.
If we teach our children
not to stare, but to look,
they will see things in their lifetime
far more valuable than pearls.

Girls:
your boobs are not objects
unless you present them
with your hands,
but ever since the 4th grade,
I’ve been trying to understand
why the more you have,
the more valuable you are
if you treat your clothes
like a falling star.

Guys:
your eyes are not credit cards:
you’re not getting anything,
you’re just making it hard
to see with your mind
and feel with your heart.
Don’t lie with open mouth
just be who you are.

Integrity is not a surface virtue:
our connections must run deep.
We can’t anticipate reality
if we stop at what we see.
And I’m not just staring
because my eyes don’t understand:
I’m looking towards the future
because the present’s out of sand.

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