The Opiate, Summer Vol. 18
In My Realm Juanita Rey Some are muscle-bound, some are thin as lilac trunks. And there are the tall who tower over the ones five-foot-four or so. Black hair, brown, even a few reds and blonds though these last two have yet to enter my immediate circle. But there’s this bald guy…well that’s another story. Same as tattoos. One or two is okay. But I’d rather the tongue tell a man’s tale and not his skin. Some chatter all the time like they say women do. Others keep their thoughts to themselves and their words follow. I’ve known happy ones, sorrowful, the solitary, and those who, minus a crowd, are minus everything. And even the ones so easily typecast can surprise me from time to time. The joker goes sullen. The gentle poet spits fury. At times, I’m with so many. At others, none at all. Most can go their own way without me trying to stop them. But an occasional one is preferred.
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