Confessions of a Feminist

I witness the mirthful encounter
Between my heart and my body;
Sometimes, I have painted myself pink
To celebrate the conquest of my careless feelings;
Sometimes, I have displayed the beauty of my unkempt hair
To support my thoughts in matters grave;
Sometimes, I have approached the uncritical, plain papers
To reveal the secrets of my disturbed heart.
I perform many roles and I love many characters;
The innocence of the emotions impresses me,
Because it exists prior to the politicized genders.

I am not a misandrist;
I love the male characters too;
Their tiresome corporate roles
And tight-fitted costumes injure their second nature
That longs for the unsuspecting love of their beloveds.  
Many of them play with knives, onions and pans
To help their wives in the chaotic kitchens.
I love those men who seldom judge the gender of the tears;
I admire those men who love pain with guiltless pride;
I am a feminist because I am a blind lover.