Ever the man in the horned helm
Standing in public protest of himself.
The long raking scrape off self-scourging.
The deep clean slice of a limber switch.
The ache of waking to find her.
The pain felt good.
He had the self to soul.
Intense blue of close cropped hair.
Metal rings pierced through.
Black painted lips.
Aggressively feminine the wrong ways.
He wanted another try.
To be strong.
To be masculine.
To be in control.