Boy.
It feels so good when you call me that. It feels as though you're complimenting me. Praising me. Admiring me.
Boy.
Mouthing this cherished word with my coloured lips, I retire into the realms of my world. My world is different. This is a beautiful place brimming with acceptance. Now, it's difficult to reach here. But I'll take you if you want. Do you want to come? Here. Let me open my art file. Do you see these two slanting lines, these two slanting, colourful lines? Do you see this trace of pink? That's a cloud. A twilit cloud. Come, let me take you down these two slanting lines. The opening of a tunnel. Oh, don't be so reluctant. Let yourself fall down.
It's difficult to trust a boy who wears lipstick. I know it is.

Steady yourself. The ground is slightly wobbly. I built it on the coast myself. I didn't get any cement. So, you may fall.
And if you get hurt, as usual, you will call
me a bad omen and blame everything on the boy who wears lipstick. That's all you can do.

See the turtles. They're the wildest I could ever find. Yet, I tamed them. See the rocks. See how clean and crystal the water is. Genuine. Real. Unadulterated.
It isn't speaking the truth which counts. It's being truthful. Being what you are.
You don't know the effort I put in. I moulded every ripple with my hands.

I know my world is very beautiful.
But, you mustn't forget me. I'll be there, looking at the skies and the rocks and the turtles. My hands will be in my pockets, the typical teenager look.
I don't know. Maybe I put on a deeper shade of lipstick? I won't show you my face. You'll just see my back.

For only on seeing my deep blue jacket and casual attitude, you will gently tap my shoulder. "Boy.." you shall say.
Boy.