The first girl 

that ever made my brain flutter: 
college classmate, sweater so green 
it matched her eyes 
(in the flash of a second
  she spun ’round to face me, 
   the reason why long-escaped
    – with her name)
…this was when my ‘dating rules’ 
had simply been: no boys with 
bigger hair, longer earrings, 
or bigger egos 
than my own.
Intervening decades sketch 
the evolution of a declaration: 
I appreciate Aesthetic beauty 
the same way as Art, akin to statuary – 
but 
only ever men in my heart and bed. One,  
exceptional on all levels
stripped my armour so sweetly 
it has never grown back. 
Then: the pandemic years – equal parts 
introspection & seclusion simmering 
an intellectual demi-glace 
that delivers 
categorical gift – Demisexual 
(succinct language for
  what matters first & most:
   deep emotional connection
    before any skin-friction)
Now? My eyes open wider, exploring 
words once written: I have fallen 
‘a little bit in love’ 
with each of my best friends – all women
which leads to suffix-ing Demi with Pan
(because some Enby folx 
  leave me wanting 
   to fan myself more 
    than my hot-flashes do) 
I 
am finally loving this 
be- and home-coming; no longer 
letting judgement-of-self force 
any part of me to silence. Limbs 
seem to find more purchase 
within this skin. I stretch 
these old bones & sing; 
recognizing this sanctuary 
for what it is.