This is such a strange/
and delicate/
ly arranged/
and balanced/
dance./

R we deranged/
2 take a chance,/
and risk so much/
just 2 feel a warm embrace?/
A tender touch?

Struggling with boundaries:/
It’s been so long it feels weird,/
yet tastes delicious!

In the new process/
of just being, I fin’lly/
am, and it’s awesome!

I think/
when u’ve had a drink/
(or 2 or 3),/
u’ll talk 2 me./
Yet sobriety/
seems 2 cloud/
yer sanity/
and make it hard/
2 talk 2 me./
But I also c/
U could b/
2 busy.

Weird. Talking about/
some women’s safety issues/
makes me feel unsafe.

With all the talking/
and all the deep listening,/
when does one get sleep?

I’m changing,.. Again./
Wanting to be kind, careful,/
and not so intense.

Safe. Comfortable. Peaceful. Content.
Relaxed. Harmonic. In tune.
All these things were my bent.
All these feelings were my view
of myself and how I am …
but they’re not how I’m seen
as a man
by women’s majority.

Instead, I am caffinated.
Intense. Aggressive. Mind-boggling.
Assertive. Opinionated.
Too much. Exhausting.

Why? Because I want so much
to show I understand;
to “be in touch”
more than any other man.

It’s about what women feel.
when they don’t have a safe feeling.
Although my caring is real;
they run, they fight, they send me reeling.

And me? I always try
to understand.
I ask why
and show I’m a caring man.

But the reason isn’t important.
They may not even know
why they don’t feel safely bent.
They just know it’s so.

I’m learning to get
the patience of Job.
To not try to vett
my feelings, nor to probe.

But simply to accept them
and be a safe place,
and as I learn to let them,
women will embrace
not only me
but the kindness they see.

If i dont answer,/
it’s because i drive and want/
to arrive alive.

My fire of today/
burns as it did long ago:/
Warmth of Pentecost.