Never let someone tell you
    you cannot love your lovers.
    If your skin craves them,
    then let your skin crave them,
    no matter their shape or yours.
    Be alive with craving your lover.

    If you have been told
    you cannot love your lovers,
    learn that you can love them anyway.
    Your body constantly heals itself:
    the heart is no exception.

    Let your heart beat in the open,
    if you can, and if you cannot,
    then let it beat in the dark,
    let it bloom in the dark, until
    it is ready for the open and the light.

    Be the way you were made.
    Grass does not wish it were a tree.
    Stones do not hope to be water.
    Love whoever your heart decides to love,
    no matter their shape or yours.

    The only thing that should concern
    your heart and your lover’s heart
    is the rhythm and cadence of
    your heart and your lover’s heart
    beating in response to one another.

    Fuck your lover.
    Fuck anyone who tells you
    you cannot fuck your lover,
    no matter their shape or yours.
    No matter their shape or yours,
    you are valid, you are equal,
    you are beautiful in your variety.

This poem was originally published under the pen name Gabriel Gadfly.