He looked at his eyes
In a way he had never looked before.
Longingly, and openly so.
A glance that begged for more.

Later, he wondered
If that was okay.
It was enough to be out.
Enough to be gay.

His father had warned him,
His uncles, more lovingly, had too.
To be free in this way
Could risk things done to you.

But the eyes that looked back
Showed no worry or doubt.
There was no concern over
What the look was about.

His eyes, those eyes,
Those deep, boundless eyes
Two pools of desire
Filled with the blackest of dyes.

Their eyes met and lingered
In such a way
That made it okay to be out.
Okay to be gay.

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