Masculinity

We don't talk about it much these days. Because it isn't beautiful.

There isn't poetry about men. Women don't worship them anymore. Other men hide in shame.

However, one can be feminine and lustful at the same time. One can be masculine and paternal at the same time.

And DESIRE...is neutral.

What is masculinity?

Seen from the eyes of a woman (me):

It's how the muscles curve around their arms and shoulders and tighten under the heavy strain.

It's how their chest expands like feathers on a peacock. So different... 

It's how my fingers trace the contours of their face into this rugged square. Wide mouth, large nose, thin outline of the eyes as they gaze intently into...a void? They tend to look at me from behind heavy eyelids like wild cats analysing a terrain. 

I wonder what they're constantly searching for in such docile places: a supermarket, their living room, the workshop...an office?

The strength of their embrace as they pull me into them, so sudden...no space.

For me, a soft touch suffices to connect. For them, they need my back, my waist, my neck...my whole form! Why? How much of me is needed to fulfil them? So curious their hunger that tempts me from my peaceful lair.

It's the way their lips and tongue devour with each kiss. No time to breathe. The constant drive for more!

I don't need that much...yet I am easily seduced by it.

I watch the way their large fingers manoeuvre both fine and heavy-duty tools; and smile at how some things are painfully beyond their reach!

I marvel at how when we're side by side and without words their hand seeks mine to touch and hold.

Such tender needs from such rough souls.

A trust that builds when watching them care for a child, patching the ground beneath their feet. Feeling their love as their brute hands wipe off the tears I weep. 

I don't see them, as I see me. 

I see them best when their eyes aren't blurred by bitterness.

Vulnerable creatures in love with love and seeking to connect.