You could be the black one, the white one,
the red, brown or mauve one.
It doesn’t matter which one to me,
our skin is not the beauty made.
We could be the sky's rainbow,
passions shared from colors' spread.
You could be my bestest bud,
the one I truly long to kiss.
Hands to roam, mouths to press,
flesh to press in resonance.
We could be close enough to touch,
to make love, to lose ourselves again.
You could be my girl-boy-friend,
it really doesn't matter which.
Never mind the gender here,
Cupid's arrows persevere.
We could open bare our souls
as these lips meet in sweet embrace.
You could strive to be yourself,
this is what I want the most.
A little this, a little that,
a treasure found is my reward.
We could be whatever comes
of love's expression in the world.
© 2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20160220.