eyes of men

i sat amongst men
had a glass of cognac 
placed in front on me. 
hair tied back,
ends tucked away from
judgmental eyes.
naturally my shoulders hunched
not wanting to waste 
to feel what real men do
they spoke about an age
i would never have any
tangible opinions on
so i sat, shoulders hunched
and brought the glass
to my inexperienced lips
the first touch against my
tongue should have been
my last. but i held down
the urge to let it spill
from between my lips.
let it soak, son.
let it seep into your veins
let it make you a man 
eyes watered but i held on
to a watery smile
and let the countless years of XO
swirl in the pit of my stomach 
when the last drop disappeared
nothing will erase the memory
of pride within 
the eyes of men

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