Movember

Imagine a man's face
without facial hair,
the beard and the mustache
replaced, shaved, wiped off
like the smirk from off his face.
So that the tenderness emerges,
the softness of skin, hidden from
sunlight and the gaze of women,
comes out of the closet.
And flowers emerge from rifles,
too heavy and unnecessary to carry
like stereotypes we marry.

"What do you plan to do with all your freedom?"
The new Sheriff said, quite proud of his badge.
"You must admit the land is now in good hands."

Yes, time will tell that.
You just lift your lamp.

-
'Scarlet's Walk,' Tori Amos