Lounging, today, on Your back porch
I saw America's men
Holding their tiki torches
Toward all they had been

I saw all of America's men
Wade angrily out into the icy upper bay waters
Toward all they had been
Through the tears of their mothers and daughters

Wading out into the icy waters
Holding their tiki torches
Through the tears of their mothers and daughters
Lounging, half-drowned, on Lady Liberty's back porch

Dear you, I'm sorry you had to hear a sigh of disbelief from my end of the phone line, when you were trying to convince me that it's not all my flesh that you fancied. The people around this place had already made me believe, I wasn't loveable.

Dear you, I'm sorry about the time none of them in your family believed your truth.  When you were sobbing into a puddle of tears and babbling that you didn't even touch her, in a gasping, broken voice. The people alongside had already deluded their thought process. I believe you. If only she confronted them too.

Dear you, I'm sorry for when you couldn't decide what you wanted for yourself, or maybe you did but couldn't stand up for yourself. You fell apart after choosing what others made you believe you should. I'm sorry for all the times, you had to choose them over yourself. For all the times you tried to love them a little more and yourself a lot less.

Dear you, I'm a tad bit sorry for all the times I had a breakdown while we were trying to make love or now and again when it made you feel like you were wrong somewhere, and you didn't even let out a sigh. I'm not very proud of my narratives with men before. consensual touch is still quite alien to me.

Dear you, I am sorry for all the times you felt like you don't belong or sharing a shoulder was a shame. No, you deserve all the love that there is. The people around you don't know better. But you and I, we do. And we will survive this. You can be whoever you feel like. Let's lift the load together shoulder to shoulder. And never stop being artists, please.

There are men that believe that they're made of gold,
then there are men that are golden,
whose light shines brighter than the sun,
the eyes promise you nothing but truth,
whose fingers trace every battle worn scar with nothing but awe.

I started a riot
of abused women

fire in our eyes
bruises left behind

a strenght to be remembered
by a man that no longer scare us

She is organized in a way that’s unfathomable,
An alluring contradiction,
Both still as untouched water
And expanding outward, reaching new spaces
With her fingertips.
You can’t see this because you’re too small.
You claim to be down-to-earth;
Just admit that you’re short for a man.
There’s no shame in that.

She has the eyes of a madwoman
And the body of someone more laid-back.
You can try to ****** her but she is everywhere
Above you and too far in-between.
You meet a different part of her every night.
You call her a different name,
Yet every woman is the “same.”

Except for that one.
She’s not like other girls.
You discovered a new celestial body
And now you have the right to name her
After one of your favorite gods.
Pick it out from a list,
And tape it over her mouth.

You try to calculate her patterns,
But since you met her it seems
She has worn nine different faces,
And in your sphere she dresses
As too many species to name,
So you think she should be tamed.

It’s true that she does less damage
Than she is capable of,
So test her limits, but remember
That a galaxy doesn’t truly have an edge.
She’s not a body you can lasso
And pull towards you,
Uncomfortably close.
Like you, she is made of dust and ash
And she breezes past you
And goes her own merry way.

If someone remains in your mind
Are they meant to be there
Are they intruding
Or did you invite them in

If a heart becomes vacant
How long does one wait
Before allowing another in
How does one choose their fate

There's no question
Of whether they're wanted
A warmth reminds the heart
Of the power they once held

They speak once after months
Flooding your every thought
Remember why there was silence
But the silence is broken now

Is it too soon to go for a walk
Maybe grasp their arm when you laugh
Not being alone for more than two weeks
Craving the touch of the one you never had

Their name pops up at the mention
As if their ears were burning
At the very moment
Manifestation working for once

Now if only Love and Desire
could be manifested instead