He is the strength of her poise
The foundation on which she builds
Seated on the backbone of definition
Her throne is the sculpted perfection
Of his focus
She is his conqueror
The purveyor of those things not seen
By the masculine eye
Carefully protecting the only kingdom
That had never been taken by oppressors
For her completion
His arms are her rest
His back is her seat
His legs give her room
So his can be filled by her story
Did you see the breakdown?
Or were thoughts of armrests
In the backseat
To your history?
Open your eyes beyond the contoured lines
Of the flesh
And see the connective bands
Of our unity.