King

When you misgender me I giggle

Bathe in the thought that I confuse you

Dip into the idea that my dominant energy makes you feel protected

Roll around in the feeling of empowered queerness

And when I don't correct you (is there anything to even correct?), you feel good about yourself

So when you called me King,

I thought, YAS.

Cause I am here to serve and protect

Here to turn this shithole kingdom into blooming fields

Turn all this trash into treasure

Use poetry to birth butterflies while building you a stable home

-Let me be straight up though- the shelving won't be straight-

Just cause I can build things doesn't mean they're always what you expect

But the thought of you feeling that you can rely on me, is a cup-filler

Because let me take care of you

Don't you know that's my thing?

I'll get them ducks in a row and them pigeons carrying messages and all

And you can call me King if that suits you

Because we all know I'll be bowing low to my queen tonight

On my knees and doing my duty

Cause we know who's really on top

Because behind every King is a Queen who know's what's what

So what else can I say besides that this poem got derailed by thinking about going down on my wife

And that's poetic as fuck.

Happy Pride.