Baptism.

Stepping into the tub,
my feet trembling, steps slippery.
Afraid they will see my male breasts,
such a slim transparent white gown.

Am I intended to experience shame,
meant to be exposed before being saved.
The man with the saving hands, preacher or juror?
lowered me forceful.

I've been made to lower,
by other men.
Whispers of pretend tickling my ear,
becoming erect, I felt the water rise to my chest.

Little boy sinner, had they known of my transgressions.
I could feel them crucifying me,
nailing me to the cross with their eyes.
Had I lost the chance for confession.

Ten years old, with the taste of cock on my tongue.
Would I be held under to suffocate,
don't they know perverts prefer to asfixate.
Had my parents offered me up,
a sacrifice to "Their" God.

Faces of strangers,
male breasts for all to see.
Plummeted into the glass surface, held down.
assured that I would not be able to lap it up,
too much water in the tub.

Male breasts always bouncing.
This piggy preferred sweets,
lustful for icing and ice cream.
Never meant to pickup a taste for cum.


I did not drown,
I rose back up into the light.
Feelings of ambivalence washed away,
I could feel it on my skin, 

Cleansed by my own acceptance.
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