Dear diary,

I love him but

When I’m in bed with him,

I can only see,

When I close my eyes.

And when I do

I don’t feel his lips on mine.

I imagine hers.

Soft and beautiful

The curves on her body

Sharp and sweet like citrus,

A glass prism hitting the light

Just right.

I want her.

This faceless femme

In the way the horizon wants the sun.

Every night.

What is wrong with me?

He’s so kind,

But when we’re intimate

I close my eyes

And swim through a night of want.

Aching for a rainbow

I’m afraid to touch.