I wonder if the next generationwill know water the way I did.The way it ruins through the fingers,the way it wrinkles the hands,cools the skin, the way it freezes,flakes and kisses the ground on the cheek.I wonder if my grandkids willever throw a penny in a fountainand hear it splash

He sketches you as the antagonist and suddenly his transgressions become deleted scenes. He blames you for his sadness. And this is how the wolf cries boy.

I know that our hands break things just as frequent as we can fix them. And we often forget that sexism / is a family heirloom that we've been passing down for generations. As men, it is important that we start asking ourselves / What will the boys learn from us?