from masculinity to femininity, the angular
or the soft, the sharp shapes of male bodies, if grace
is a mirror of ourselves, I'd be the female-like curve
of a vase, I'd be the soft-to-softly-fading brown color inside
of it, outside of it, the postures of Greek athletics--
the bodies they had--bending, modeling the way we
normally see them: one whose head falls classically,
baroequely backwards, his wholeposture as though saying Take me. Take me, fair
Aphrodite, the other whose right arm is an u-shaped
shape around a grey discus, muscles flexed, upper body
arching to one side to give power to the throw still
to be made. Figures, all Greek. All demonstrating
masculinity, I think, inside myself, now imagining
an image of a warrior whipping hard his horse
from his chariot, now two figures wrestling For life For
glory.
About the soft feathers of a wing,the way outstretched it suggests a softness too
soft to be anything else than female. Does that mean
it's inferior? Does it? Why are you so restless relishing
in your own fucking sex
to see another? To make it equal?
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