How Will I Know?

How will I know, if I am gay?

Only five and vigilant to not be seen

Modeling after what is shown. Do not feel

The butterflies in my belly

Their wings plucked by observing, scrupulous eyes.

A black boy, like me, smiles my smile.

I clutch my stomach as we hold hands.

We run where eyes cannot see

To where our giggles are light and low.

Into a world dare not shown.

Our butterflies fly freely here,

No hurt or fear. Queerly smiling.

My heart races as time passes by.