My Heart Is With a Woman<\/b><\/p>\n
The last time I got into my body,<\/span><\/p>\n I left a strand of hair, a fist full of joy,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n and the back lens of my mind behind.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n They say home is where the heart is\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n but no one tells you what to call home\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n when your heart is in the hands of a woman.<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n 3 times and counting,<\/span><\/p>\n I have knocked on the hardwood of skin,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n each \u201ccome in\u201d less inviting than the last.<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n No one wants to own a body where they are guests,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n no one wants to get permission\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n before feeding.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n So I borrow my heart from the hands of this woman.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n I tell her it is for a short while,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n that I must present it to the owner\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n who has never seen it nor felt the power of its touch.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n