James, found a hidden trove, a treasure
burried deep within himself. Slendor,
fragile, tendor and unceartain, his
treasure: the feminine, within a
blue-painted house; a shimmering
hope, or calling, for burried aspects
of his hidden appellation. James,
in his quest for masculinity,
found instead, fragile femininity,
fragile to James alone, for he, did not
know the power it possessed. Someone
called out his heart, sweetly,
softly, gently, with a gesture,
a smile, an awknowledgement of
carnal perfection. James grew to love
what he searched for, for in his quest,
he understood, searching for masculinity
implies the absence of itself–
feminity was absent, too-- what was left?
James, cuddled in a cloud of purple-blue
Yin and yang. Nice thoughts.