# just use mine

he’s wanted one, i think, a while  
still growing his, it takes its time  
i wonder: _why not just use mine?_

our parts are modular by design  
they’re aftermarket optimized  
hot-swappable and still divine

then i’m above and he’s below  
press into him, extend a loan  
tell him: _touch, like it’s your own_

he strokes it like a precious gift  
he must be worried, he’ll miss it  
the gratitude vibrates his wrist

he shakes as need remaps the mind  
and both our systems intertwine  
we once mistake his flesh for mine

i ask him softly if it was good  
he nods like i rewound the world  
we had made what no one could

## poem details

- [color](https://chromato.graphics/colors): [Fanfare](https://www.pantone.com/color-finder/18-4936-TCX)
- sampled: New York Toy Collective Shilo
- wrote: 2025-04-12
- posted: 2025-08-08
- [tags](https://chromato.graphics/tags): [#boundaries](https://chromato.graphics/tags/boundaries)  [#gender](https://chromato.graphics/tags/gender)  [#love](https://chromato.graphics/tags/love)  [#new york](https://chromato.graphics/tags/new%20york)  [#religion](https://chromato.graphics/tags/religion)  [#sex](https://chromato.graphics/tags/sex)  [#technology](https://chromato.graphics/tags/technology)  [#touch](https://chromato.graphics/tags/touch)  [#trans](https://chromato.graphics/tags/trans)  [#🪴](https://chromato.graphics/tags/%F0%9F%AA%B4)