I’ve committed a cardinal sin.
I see it in your eyes as I enter a room
or pass you in the bar.
A homosexual Hester Prynne,
too fat to fit in your spaces.
You’ve created a monster
that has haunted my mind
and tormented me for existing
in a way that is different
from our culture’s manicured
media depiction.
If the tears I’ve sweated,
If the miles I’ve tread
could actually add up,
If Pygmalion could carve
what you want in this excess,
If I could look more like you,
I think I could be happy then.
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