A Masculine Perspection

Your feminine enthralls me,

Draws me;

My masculine sees you as beauty pure,

Incapable of seeing anything else,

And why would it try?

What does it want, you ask?

And quite right,

For trouble often follows it closely,

I will tell you what this accursed says to me:

Liberate your eyes,

Let them caress her every dimension,

Envelope her in your arms,

Warmth, worldly and deep;

Ignite a fire so powerful,

She will want to fight for her world,

With a fierceness that slows time,

A light that can and will shine,

Brighter, hotter, and longer than yours.

Let her be the architect and you the builder,

And so the designs would be so grand.

It says to me:

With every glance,

You will understand better why it is,

You’re drawn and fixated,

Incapable of seeing anything less than a goddess,

Cursed nonetheless,

A curse that the masculine seeks,

To unravel,

To turn from chains and thorns,

Into sustenance and warmth,

Continuity and life,

Tenderness and sensuality.





Precarious Worlds

In how many worlds does your heart reside?
I will tell you about mine.

In one world my heart is old,
Yearning for richness in life,
Where the language discovers emotions unknown,
Where north, south, east, and west precariously balance,
and each with their own story.

In another world my heart is a fool,
Where east and west will not meet,
and I mediate,
As from them I had emerged,
yet each wishing to be chosen,
and I am left depriving both.

In my world my heart must be proud,
Because pride is the strength that defends,
The scales that balance the uneasy stories,
with the mediating fool,
Each with the desperate need,
for a better world.

Originally written in 2013
Reworked in 2015