He wants you to breathe easy into him. Gentle speech, gentle touch. You see, the touch of a woman  causes him to curl into the shape of question marks that rested on his heart, and you are now the art of his mind. His punctuation. The way he unwinds, his imagination. You are all that exists and all that never did. He wants you to wrap your arms around the strength he holds because society told him to do so, the fragile untold woes that they never would know. Because he wasn't raised to ask to be held, or even be compelled to cry. He wants to be elastic. He wants to spread beyond moons, with you being the shooting star to his eye. He wants to fly. He doesn't want you to ask why, but asks that you understand. He wants you to withstand, what it really takes to hold down a man with aspirations, with emotions, he wants devotion. Watch how he opens up when he receives the love his mother gave him, or even the love she didn't. He wants you to be forgiving. He wants to receive what he has been giving. And you should recognize all that he has been missing. He wants you to listen. And you will glisten. Like the sweat that drips within him when he is nervous in the presence of the beauty of you. He wants to break through. He wants to understand the shape of you. And not what he can physically feel, although that appeals, he wants to be able to trust in a love that will always be enough. Because the man can understand that he is hard to touch, with callused hands and quick demands. Because we demand so much as women, forgetting that sometimes even our thoughts could be unforgiven. I just ask that we are reliving the pieces of us that fall into our man that make them harder to touch. They never asked for much, either.