Don’t Confuse Restraint

Sometimes what’s strapped down tight—
breasts, cock—needs restraint,
and restraint a kind of freedom. Can you
understand what I mean? Buttoned,
flattened, tucked parts become wings,
exotic creatures disguised against the world.
In camouflage, we pass unseen except
by the trained eye that perceives our infrared,
glowing eyes like moths whose backs
mimic faces. We deceive,
create spaces we crave.

Share!