And There Is More to Be Gotten

They get somethings.

They get when you love

him or her, and some of them,

they get when you love both,

but when you love "all,"

as the prefix reminds you,

they do not get.

They do not get,

when I say there is more

than he or she, 

and they do not get,

that what is or is not

found between your legs

has no weight in the ease

at which I can love you.

And if they do get that,

they do not get that sometimes,

I cannot be with you

unless I am in love with you.

They do not get 

the absence of lust 

or my lack of it, unless,

you have poured into my heart.

They do not get that I

am not straight, 

or gay

or ace

or bi,

but that I am

demi

that I am

pans,

that sexuality is full of wars

of terminology and outcasts,

because to them,

I do not exist.

They do not get 

to get me,

not with their eyes,

not with their words,

not with their bodies,

because if they did,

they would see

that all I had to give,

before they did not get me,

is love.