It's funny how we perceive things in life
From looking at my tiny Watch-turtle
Seemingly happy to be biting at the bubbles coming from the little pump
To the men I adore
Doing what they do
We are so used to seeing only the surface of things, see only what we want, what we know won't be judged by the 'so called' norm
So she looks at this man
A fit shell of a man
Her gaze fixed upon his eyes
And only for a moment can she see the fragility that lurks inside
A man seemingly sure of himself
The label he bares unwillingly...
white, English speaking, better off than others, knowledgeable, skilled... and so we are attracted to what is seemingly 'acceptable'
As she looks at this man
With his confident walk
Strong legs where stories once lived lay bare
The scars that carry his heart
A man torn between his truth and the demands of the world
Searching for answers left untold
And so he denies this voice calling from within
unsure of it ever being free
She feels him as he stands nearby
The pulses of his heart filled with life, with love....
And she knows she needs to love this man
What is love but a word?
A relationship of letters and sounds
The shell of what is seemingly understood
The visual of what is expected to be felt
To the perception we so dearly hold