What he doesn’t even know he wants
Is what drives him to do what he does.
The smallest crack in the door
Is an open invitation to slip inside.
In the stillness of the night he has a dream.
He would like to please someone fully,
Someone as close to him as air, as breath.
He remembers when he was a small child,
He heard an airplane fly overhead,
And he thought, how strange,
They don’t even know I’m here.
A wave of longing and sadness,
Like frothing milk, washes over him,
But when he finds himself alone in the room,
He is afraid. A yellowish light falls
Across the foot of the bed, where
Articles of clothing have been neatly
Placed. The material is smooth,
And feels different from anything
He has ever felt. His mind wants
Fabric, texture, and comfort.