I love aesthetically sensualistic men,
elevated and blazingly fresh men,
a **** smile, profound pronouns,
astounding nouns, zestful, distinctive,
magnetic, competitive, complex, charismatic,
compassionate, open-minded, observant,
knowledgeable, and logical, harmonic hues
of delightful affection, their smooth flow,
their deep, equally smooth voice, modulated,
silvery, and soft-spoken. Ambitious
and adventurous men. Accomplished
and artistic men. Clean-shaven and bearded
men. Innovative and inspirational men.
Sophisticated and spontaneous men.
Masculine and gallant men. I celebrate
all amazing men, their groovy sweetness,
thrilling electricity, instrumentally metaphoric
shoulders and arms, and sweetly scented chests.
Men are so abundantly blessed and full
of heaven and smoothness, coolness
and lucidness, poetically intriguing,
a nouvelle novel of the greatest literature.
The cadence of their masculinity speaks to me,
so vulnerable in this moment, taking pleasure
in their warm and wondrously inviting escape,
their addictive and compelling song, divinely
delicious thighs and legs full of hard muscle
and nasty spitting lyrics. I think of their great
power, how they intoxicate my mind
with their thought-provoking originality,
utterly buoyant, feeling so close in proximity
to their pleasing existence, every flawless
mural covered in priceless and reflective art,
their bodies a musicality of epic invitations
towards a destiny of limitless love languages.
I yearn to lay on their chests, feel their peacefulness
enter my cells, make me whole, make me forget
about the storms in my past, let their hands caress
me, hold me tighter, kiss me, make me miss it all
when they are so close to me, take me away
into their notorious nation, let me fall asleep
to their soothing voices whispering in my ear, so loved
and protected, invested in this fiery romance.