Him

I miss Him,

when the mind and the life and the heart ache take hold
I watch my lover mold in to a cold gaze of “reason”,
his heart folded closed and I can’t reach Him. 
Here
ideas and cautionary tells
make for scary bedtimes tales
past down through lifetimes of disappointed souls
who never found their way home.
He wont believe in in what he knows
and I fall down as he lets me go,
left alone when owns what the world has told him,
making me a stranger, a familiar danger
he looks at me cocked eyed like some back ally hazer,
gaze glazing over
not quite believing
closing moving slowly out of range.
He drowns himself in regrets & guilty pleasures
both feeding each in a measured masochistic game
tethering the way to the impossible goal of perfection.
Now ambivalence is reflected in his tribe
machismo and charisma thrive
in the ease of a cozy couch and a barbie world
her skin enticing so long as it’s sold
without flaw.
Powerful connections forsaken for fast food and porn
to horny to see the violence behind the camera
he wants to believe she wants Him
his conditioning impenetrable
and she will never challenge or grow old
ever changing she is sold for his erection
What do you think she dreams about love and worthiness now?
He is baited and caught
filleted and taught
he must be
better younger richer bigger thicker higher taller
a true baller
no thought of the moment only tomorrow
tomorrow
maybe someday
someday
someday
maybesomeday…

I think
the world confused them
fooled them
equated manhood with abusing hating
raping
feeding egos by collecting
tricking teens into whores killing teams of our boys fathering heartbreak.
Where are my warriors!?
The patriarch has failed.
I want a man who rises to
meet Me
lifts me needs me kissing
each scar
each line
each story
Taking glory in the fiery feast he makes of my body
flowing and allowing the reality of my possy
my pussy valued for it’s part in the soul of a whole being.
I can watch him stumble and fall sometimes stammer and stall
stuttering through babbling breakthroughs to hear the call of Gods.
Morning breaking his bones, busted by busy business days
blinded by the bindings trapped in the humdrum ways we must get paid
he’s longing for absolution for freedom.
I watch him when he doesn’t know im looking
amazed at how much i love his face
I notice myself striving to please him cracking through carefully constructed constraints
i see him
starring at his breath pretending that im sleeping
but im gently dreaming that his destiny keep me near
I want to Be
right here
there
right there on the warm beating pulsing perfect heart
but
whats real
when the truth is called for
when I open and witness the source of this inspiration
this muse who has
taken me
lifted me
bewitched me
this Man I want inside me my very best friend
it’s that, this time,
I can not save him.