To me, love is
vole I mean but divided from the one by international blindness is all I've ever known while the great divide of asses put me on my back to rape me blind of my fortune.
It's like that country song—
I may not know what love is, but I sure as hell know what it isn't.
So thank you to every string of bad relationships,
every abuse I've witnessed and felt,
every scar, some and most of them unseen.
Even through all of that, my children still love.
My daughter doesn't discriminate against gender;
my son doesn't discriminate against her anymore.
Thank you, bi girlfriend and her presence—
suddenly he's fine with lesbians,
even if he had sex at 12, he raised his girlfriend's bar,
and she raises his.
They came to me together—he makes a rose petal bubble bath.
And with all the abuses they've ever seen me go through,
never once being treated right,
I look at them, at their kindness, their acceptance,
and I think that means I win.
Because love, for me, is not about what I was denied,
but about what I've managed to grow—
in spite of everything,
in the next generation,
in the open arms and open hearts of my ch
ildren.
That's my victory.