Art

When my classmates
Were learning to explore each other
Like they were artists
Molding clay
Some were learning
The songs of gasps and sighs
And serenading each other
And yet, 
I passed love notes
Around like a child 
I loved with an abundance
But not with my body
When I tell someone
I want their body
I mean the downturned eyelashes
Brushing their cheeks
When they glance down nervously
On a first date
I mean the eyes
Which I will compare to stars
As if it is the first draft
Nothing shines quite as brilliantly
Nothing glows quite as bright
And, yes, shine and glow are different
And, yes, I want to see both
I want to see both
Of their cheeks pink
In the sun of a new summer day
Or in the kitchen light
After shoveling snow 
I am a poet
And I am also asexual
And maybe it is because of this
That I think asexuality is like poetry
And allosexual is like pottery
Or singing or dancing
Or one of the many other things
I do not do
And I do not compare them
Like we are in math class
As in one is greater than
And one is less than
They are both simply
Art