Being a man is not enough anymore We are usually the first to go So many woman, I see, giving more Left to deal with all the family’s woe Bound to the weakness of stroke She still encouraged us folk I learned from her How to keep this world together To accept, rejected children And nurture them to kings and queens SHE put VALUE to US She left me her backbone I’ll express it to the world Every man needs to understand He should thank a woman for his strength If I could have half the strength Of my grandmother I’ll excel in the world at great length For my happiness, I look to no other Such beauty could never be forgotten

Coming out of a country concert I never expected my night to end up in a first kiss on the lips of a curly-headed latin man, but it did indeed. Bumming cigarettes turned into conversation turned into invitations to drink turned into a connection turned into shots turned into murmured Spanish whispers in my ear as he discovered my lips over a bar table.

I don't remember a first kiss with him because it was so unremarkable. I know one happened (obviously) but there was nothing to recommend it to my memory.

And I'm calm Untouchably separate from others' actions Continuously giving love despite others' retractions Unexplainable the sense of peace that follows presence A powerful sense of self has taken up full residence A flow reconnecting the soul to potential energies Untapped centers of perceived external synergy Asymmetry balanced within no longer limits me Acceptance a voiceless, timeless remedy I pass ethereal through the swords of imagined enemies In my perception, long held perspective has shifted to one of constant movement Acknowledging the inevitability of my imperfections, I embrace inner improvement

His first kiss was a languishing and inevitable one, fed by wine and green things and comfy couches and long boring movies with silences that needed to be filled. His lanky awkwardness matched my own, and his lips were warm and convenient. He was a comfortable blanket that was attractive and helped me forget that my heart's home was far from me.

To the preacher bench May I confess Barbells clang in rhythms A choir's hymn Melted sounds of gym Giving in to fatigue Your only sin Sweat like holy water May it wash over my soul Muscles led to slaughter Still yield an empty hole Loneliness being lifted by Crushing back rows And wide grip pull-ups "Are you crying, bro?" "No, it's my fat burner. Shut up." My calloused hands Cry for more Than company of cast iron plates Or protein Or a steel-bent core Yet a yearn for another No matter the weight

I never intended for that first kiss to happen but alcohol had different plans. I was never the type of girl to look at other girl's men and I'd like to think that I wouldn't have kissed him had I not been so caught up in his artistry. Swaying and emotional and alone in his living room, I danced to the music and abandoned myself to the moment upon which he intruded. When he took my hips in his hands and choreographed my dancing with his movements I was lost in seduction. He drew it out, never getting quite close enough but leading me further down his rabbit hole until I was hopelessly lost and succumbed to his beautiful mouth.