masked men

we used to watch bunkbed movies
on the portable DVD player.
i always wanted to watch the horror ones
& you always wanted to watch romance.
we agreed one night
on v for vendetta. it was december
which is too late in the year
for a revolution. i was falling
out of love with pretending to be
a hydrangea bush. you loved my hair 
as long as i could grow it. your fingers
in my knots. sometimes we talked
about getting married.
i watched the man on the screen.
on the portable player, he was
action figure sized. 
i wanted you to be him which is 
to say i wanted you to be someone else.
someone unknowable. i was in love
with v & evey. their names 
making little currents in my mouth.
i knew i was bisexual
but to see your desires 
kaleidoscoped in motion 
made it real in a way that terrified me.
i thought about standing in
a special kind of mirror
one that would cut us both in half.
not two genders but two runaway selves.
you teased me at the end.
you asked, "do you want me 
to wear a mask?" i flushed.
we turned the lights on in the basement.
i told you, "no." 
at home afterwards 
i showed until the hot water ran out. 
i hoped somehow i could be 
transformed so easily.
instead, i left in a room of clouds.
sometimes i would look in the mirror
& see you standing behind me
even when you weren't there.
i wanted the mask for myself.