And There Is More to Be Gotten
They get somethings.
They get when you love
him or her, and some of them,
they get when you love both,
but when you love "all,"
as the prefix reminds you,
they do not get.
They do not get,
when I say there is more
than he or she,
and they do not get,
that what is or is not
found between your legs
has no weight in the ease
at which I can love you.
And if they do get that,
they do not get that sometimes,
I cannot be with you
unless I am in love with you.
They do not get
the absence of lust
or my lack of it, unless,
you have poured into my heart.
They do not get that I
am not straight,
or gay
or ace
or bi,
but that I am
demi
that I am
pans,
that sexuality is full of wars
of terminology and outcasts,
because to them,
I do not exist.
They do not get
to get me,
not with their eyes,
not with their words,
not with their bodies,
because if they did,
they would see
that all I had to give,
before they did not get me,
is love.