In response to Sandeep Parmar’s poem XLIV in her poetry collection Eidolon.
[THOMAS] You know why I’m here.
– Do I?
[THOMAS] You’re going to cure me, aren’t you? That’s what my dad told me.
– Cure you? My dear, there is no cure.
[THOMAS] But that’s why my parents chose you. Because you do this sorta thing?
– No, no, no. I don’t cure people. I just make it easier.
[THOMAS] So I’ll never get better?
– My dear, you were never unwell.
– What’s he like?
– Who you’re thinking about. Does he know you feel like this?
[THOMAS] No, and he never will. It’s not right. Or ethical.
– Why because he’s a boy?
[THOMAS] Cause we’re both boys.
– Right. And you love him do you?
[THOMAS] I dunno. Not love, not that.
– Then lust?
[THOMAS] Isn’t that just the same?
– Oh no, my dear. Definitely not.
– To feel lust is to want him: emotionally, mentally, physically. But to love him is a whole other thing.
– To love him is to need him.