“A real man,”
She said,
“Must not be afraid to show his sensitive side,
But he better swing his *****
When he needs to.
He must be strong
But his strength must not make him weak.
He must be smooth,
But he must not slip or slide away.
He must be refined
Not ground thin.
He must be proud
But not haughty.
And then she smiled
Her cavalier smile.

And I said

“Let me show you.
Let me show you what a real man looks like.”
So I showed her.
I showed her my death
And rebirth,
I showed her my missing rib
And broken teeth,
I showed her my lying mouth
And my truthful eyes,
I showed her my deific wrath
And I showed her
The book I wrote
In ancient tongues
A thousand years ago
I showed her that holy book,
My seditious tyrannical spirit,
My unconquerable will to dominate  
Then I showed her my hand,
Its fine lines,
And the diacritic print of each finger.

Then she showed me,
Purpose.