You are like a dove.

I was never sure if I was humble enough

to come inside your world with your beauty.

You were so precious, full of joy and serenity.

I approached you with trepidation and fear.

Yet you let me get near.

I was allowed to touch you,

to care for you in all that you do.

Yet then, by accident,

I pulled out a feather. I had not meant

to. The worst: it was your pin feather.

You would now be flying again never.

You showed it false, though.

When I saw you fly and away you go.

The feather was only from your tail.

You were unaffected.

It only confirmed that I was another male.

Now I’m afflicted.

But adore being able to watch you soar,

hoping your regrets are none.

As you fly further into the sun.