Amanda, I am glad you admire my confidence, or as I assume you mean, stupidity for taking on women or daring their claws. It reminds me of a few things. I followed you many years ago, in spirit, as a critic for a University Newspaper by finding fault in the seeming sexual object sculptures of an artist and condemned him in the spirit of the political correctness of the day and his daughter scolded me. She saw the beauty and truth in them. I resided on the shame: "How dare he?"

I am watching Damien Rice's Soirée de Poche #54 (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lnRP7Id9pIw). If you know anything about him, you know that he cheated/hurt Lisa Hannigan. They were perfect together. He climbs out of his guilt with beauty. We don't need to forgive him. He didn't need to cheat. We don't need to do anything but feel and be.

Your piece also reminded me of women who want to go topless or women who want to nurse their babies in public, or talk about boob tubes as if such phrases aren't triggers or the reality of them were not provocative. Is this a test for men? No, that's beneath you. It's beneath me to respond to your post, the images, your very beauty, the truth in my heart?

I am about to publish a piece/a poem/a novel. It is about decisions men make amid the veracity of desire against the truth of women simply wanting to be left alone.