This bicep flexing?
This is all you’re getting.
This shirtless texting?
That is all I’m threatening:
I have no interest in who you really are.
I have no desire to struggle with the stars.
My name is Kevin Martens, not Lim Chin Siong, not Atlas:
my pronouns are he/him, and cutiepie, and
very, very compellingly badass.
Fundamentalist paradigms aside, the ass is surprisingly quite morally sound
(and, undoubtedly, quite well-proportionately round),
but that’s really all that’s getting by.
And I’m not even trying;
when I want to, I resign.
Not a quiet quitter.
Just Singapore’s quietest, queerest quing;
just a little bit of every goddamn thing
that you want to be, am I right?
Scholar, linguist, archeoastronomer and very exciting gay brown pixie sprite
with biceps; have I mentioned those?
I might be overstimulated by the projections you’ve let unfold
over my ass, I think that’s been mentioned too,
as morally sound, and quite golden-ratiocinatively round.
I hope you’re finding what I think you’d have wished you’d have found
if I actually was as terrifyingly dangerous as you’ve always wanted me to be.
Can I tell you a secret, just a little bit of tea?
I like mine hot, and brown, and oh so very sexy.