I lived my first fifty-five
In fear of rejection:
Never saying out proud
What sex made me feel loud.
Under the shroud of real abuse,
A casual abuse,
A family abuse no family would call abuse,
I barely survived the silence of cold.
But in chat here and there,
In communications surprisingly cool,
I realise – now! – that my feelings of rejection
Were always your rights to a real choice, ever so fulsome.
And so the royalty of a parallel liberation
For us both
Makes me king, at long last, of my emotions.
A man who is finally becoming a man:
A man who now knows
How to ask for the sex
That his soul rightly prays for
And his heart would break thrice.
The hugs and embraces of a woman of similar:
The kindly manhood.
Never a should nor a must:
Just a sharing of possible pairing
Without ever fearing rightful answer of no.