Conversations & Cunnilingus

People often ask me,

"Were you always talented?"

And I say —

No, darling,

I waited till puberty.

Because when your height plateaus at five feet and change

in a country orgasming to six feet of male privilege

like it’s the divine metric of manhood and desirability —

you adapt.

See, genetics cut me short some inches,

so I grew those inches in the finer things of life:

intellect, humour, poetry, politics, 

conversations and cunnilingus

Because when you're barely a zebra in a world

that gets hard watching giraffes humping hedgehogs,

your brain secretions are the lube to

the dildo of your existence.

You become

a man of nuance,

a man whose orgasms

are alphabetic before anatomical.

Because if they’re going to overlook you

in the daylight of lust,

you better blind them

with midnight monologues.

I learned early on in life

that the body may not enter rooms,

but the mind can take the stage,

take the mic,

take the pants off

without ever unbuttoning a thing.

Tall, dark, and handsome?

Please.

I’m short, sharp, and fucking devastating.

And let me tell you something they don’t teach

in your Daddy’s Rulebook of Alpha Male Pride:

Cunnilingus is not a skill,

It’s a statement.

It’s a sonnet with your tongue,

a democracy of desire,

a fucking masterpiece on the canvas of curves

without mansplaining a thing.

When you don’t have the height

to look down on women,

you learn how to look into them —

through their eyes,

through their stories,

through the tremble of thighs that trust you

not to break them

for the sake of your broken pride and limping ego.

Talent came not from craving applause,

but from needing reasons

to be something more than your tired existences 

typing the fuck out of keyboards on weekdays and chugging down affordable alcohol on weekends

like a string of blowjobs settling around your epiglottis

So, no.

I wasn't always talented.

I was forged in the fire

of being overlooked and forgotten.

In a world obsessed with evens

I stood out, loud and proud, the odd one out.

Conversations & cunnilingus —

that’s the brand.

A mouth made for both,

with equal conviction.

Because when you’ve been overlooked long enough,

you learn to use your tongue —

not just to talk,

not just to unsettle clitoral feelings,

but to dismantle egos,

undo insecurities,

and leave gods, women, and gatekeepers

trembling for all the right reasons.

Because talent isn’t what they notice.

It’s what they can’t ignore

once you’ve been inside their heads

longer than their lovers ever lasted.