And Other Songs
Brown hands calloused by time spent building homes he cannot afford,
Each dollar feeds the family waiting back home
The macho exterior hardened by years of masculinity forced onto him like maza on corn husks.
With his family he is the jefe, a proud king upon a throne of nopal.
But in the night when his esposa thinks he’s having a cerveza with his compadres,
He is wrapped in my arms sighing softly as I kiss his neck.
The crave, desire, need for a mans touch has brought him back to the bed he keeps in secret.
Tattoos collected lay meaningless here in the place he can love without fear.
Ecstasy and elation course through with a primordial force as he takes me in, holds me tight.
Pain and pleasure collide mystically as he cries my name — and then it’s done.
Shame and fear lead him back to the world he hates,
To the fate he cannot escape.
The money on the counter makes me wonder how much more he worked, or if his children went without to feed their fathers need for love.