In a world that cannot see me,

A place forming thick, straight, immalleable lines on a meaningless mission,

Refusing to deviate from their exhausting path.

A place that encourages me to conceal,

To congeal into a stiff un-absorbent shape,

Heteronormativity, captivity, refusing to let me feel.

Bi bi world that refuses to see me,

Hello world that wants:

Curvature.

Deviation.

Progression.

Someone who melts the rigid stuff,

Guiding the tough media under a hot flame,

Until finally! It moves freely.

Stretching out like freshly chewed bubblegum,

Warmly supported by the flame,

Arching and twisting into meaningful movement.

Finally able to scrape by,

As I embody my queer battle cry,

You strengthen me, my ally.