Ode to My Penis Before it is Gone

When I was thirteen I dreamed were detachable,
like a prosthetic ear or glass eye,
so I removed you.
I put you in my locker at school
locked the vented metal door and walked away
with nothing in your place.
I woke up without ever going back.

You look so small now
sunk into the lonesome corner between the legs.
I’m sorry if I made you feel abandoned
foreign and homeless.
I understand that now.
My falsely accused lover
I could never discard you like that again.

You, who are like a pocket turned out
as if to show its poverty.
Forgive me my childhood fantasy.
Give me a chance to turn you back inside
and let you be yourself
for once.

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