I can plainly see they are grateful and relieved

to be inside off the streets where most

 

of the neighbors are cautious suspicious

troubled by their persistence their

 

appearance their door-to-door politeness

these two young gentlemen barely adult 

 

dressed in handsome dark blue suits slightly

larger than their almost grown-man bodies

 

clear sweet-voiced messengers

who sit close to one another on my sofa

 

enjoying the cookies I just baked 

the familiar aroma hanging in the air drifting

 

into conversation like a memorable prayer

in truth they can’t quite believe their good

 

fortune their luck in finding me someone who

really wants to hear what they have to say

​

in this cozy container a refuge from the cold

biblical ambiguities of this day

 

thrilled actually to share their knowledge

of God’s chosen plan for his people

 

and so I bring it up I serve it up like holy

communion: I want to know about men who

 

marry other men I want to understand exactly

what it is what it really means when we

 

choose to be with one another without

complaint I want to hear from these eager

 

young missionaries I want to know

what the question is but first I coax them

 

to try the oatmeal raisin foolishly boasting

that I use only the best ingredients just

 

the right amount of sugar no coconut

pointing out that when it comes to oatmeal

 

cookies or anything else for that matter

using coconut is the real sin here

 

and I smile and I give them a wink

and suddenly they both stand as if on cue

​

startled these two sweet melodic

declarations of truth on fire rapidly turning

 

the pages of ancient texts in their heads

searching for cautious pronouncements

 

that arrive without warning these visiting

angels who now ask in unison:

 

Are you gay?

Of course this is hardly the question I was

 

expecting to hear and equally surprised

I also stand now wiping my hands on

 

my flowered apron and reply:

Aren’t you?

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