PRETTY

A Kiss On My Shoulder

.

All ears on the soft

beneath the bulging pitch

of your voice on your breath

.

Every nose on the sweetest

eu de toilette emit sweat

ringing brute from your neck

.

Every mouth on the sensitive

toeing the weight of your words

stand on, in it’s defense

.

All eyes on your colorful

portrayal of a world rinsed

of carnage, with blood and sand

.

…It’s all in your hands,

It’s all in your hands, to the touch

you could put on a man;

.

Don’t you ever let any adore you

like you do, every all that you can.

.

Tone Are

I have the most beautiful fingers, I really do.   I also happen to have some gorgeous fucking feet!  Have you seen them?  No??   Straight Jesus arch!

My brow is beastly, and while it creases my forehead something terrible, it also chisels the kind of mysterious hoods  that deepen the eyes of a legendary sexy.

Dark, rough, humble, peace, fury..

You don’t see shoulder’s like mine around every corner; and my legs balance out my body to a perfect symmetry ((SO WHAT IF MY LOVE HANDLES CAN USE SOME AIR-BRUSHING!  THEY ARE THE KIND OF FAULT FOUND IN GREEK STATUES))

Haha.. by the way, you can trust me on this.  I am by NO MEANS.. a greek statue    😉

^^^^ NOTHING WRONG WITH A LITTLE AFFIRMATION^^^

Brother, you deserve to love yourself.  Your reflection of self deserves to be cared for as much as your physique deserves to be cared for; as much as your character deserves to be cared for!  As men we don’t allow ourselves to be comfortable with paying ourselves any mind.  We internalize the same neglect we accustom ourselves toward our fellow brother (how he is looking, how he is living, how right or wrong he is, the well being of his health and spirit).  Too often we fail to look out for him, and in our carrying about life projecting that sort of distance we fail to notice how we begin distancing from ourselves in the same capacity.

We disconnect from the more rooted currents of affinity and in lacking that love, become all the more fixed to seeking hyper stimulation on a shallow/hollow/surface level.  It affects our intimacy.  It prevents us from knowing ourselves; especially in terms of keeping up with transitions we go through with age> Often times, an old man’s strongest hint that it might be time to finally pay visit to a hospital check up, is rigamortis.  Now I’m not a doctor, and I’m not the most educated person in terms of health and well being, but that makes sense to me.  I’ve had (I have) my own funky stretches of lax maintenance and watched the hair and the nails grow, the boobies start to hang, time between showers for lack of a better parallel: stage a lock-out.  And have experienced how there is TOTALLY a connection with how I felt/feel.

Reckless drinking, and reckless sexing, and reckless schedules, reckless eating and all that ‘ness  will never bring you the quality of life that not-reckless drinking, and not reckless sexing, and not reckless schedules, and not reckless eating will help you generate.  FIRST, you have to appreciate and quest to preserve what you have.

Hell, I could use my own advice these days.  A good brother of mine reminds me of cycles and seasons.  Couple of sisters I know keep on top of me reminding myself that there is no time to start like now.. even if you JUST started and immediately stopped a food or exercise regimen; it isn’t against any ‘rule’ to just start up again.  And while obviously, a well disciplined and challenging focus on self is ideal if you’re going to begin caring for self;  the only wrong in flaking is what you make of it in the face of opportunity to pick back up where you left off.

That’s a struggle I might be getting a little righteously in-over my head on.  I’m bout to go eat cake.  But hell, I figure if I’m going to start somewhere it’s got to be with noticing myself!

Brothers, kiss your shoulders and all that shit.  Be fly, even if as you read this you struggle to imagine your type/style kissing itself on the shoulder.   Every:any swagg is amenable to self affirmation.  If you ain’t about to go out and get a mani-pedi, or a simple hair cut;  or you ain’t really trying to even stress working out like that;  be the fly fill in the blank YOU are!

My recommendation is that you get naked and speak poetry into the mirror.  Get ya Muhammad Ali on!!!

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