He demanded to know “if she was a lesbian,”
Because she wore a snapback and her chest was flat.
He demanded to be told “if she liked women”
Because she looked like a man to him, arms wiry and lean.
He did not know her, strangers in a coffee shop,
But she owed him something,
Because she was not his idea of what a woman should be.
He wanted it to be known that, “if she was, it is okay, we can find help, we can get her “fixed,” but she needs to tell me, she needs to inform Me “.
I felt I had to say,
She owes you nothing.
Least of all her love,
Least of all who she loves,
Least of all an answer.
And so I told him,
What does it matter,
She is as human as you and I,
She is radiant in the afternoon light,
As she laughs and lives as herself,
Loving as fiercely as herself,
Beautiful, BEING HERSELF.