These eternal divisions, incandescent parallel lines. Running from our fathers of always, that trample the mothers of now. Patriarch, you sit before me; father, you show me our tradition. A lineage of violence/a lineage of commodification. These binaries reinforce the construct of separation. These binaries prescribe what is of man. Placate the legends of always. This construct is illusory. Your definition is self-made. Your dominance is nothing to me. Your dichotomy places the golden crown on your temples. The subtlety in our discourse poisons us still. If this is what it means to be a man, I reject this.