Yours is peaceful strength; I see you settled, ankle perched on knee, head bowed with the weight of male thoughts; alien mind, I cherish you for that little smile cast in my direction, hardly a twitch of those subtly curved lips but I see, I see. Oh, if I could press you into myself and drink the masculinity of you, become one with it and truly know what it is to be a happy man, I would. For me, it is only ever the imperfect joining, the spill of fluids and your ragged breath caught in the cup of my mouth.