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Every man is his own Pavlov
Knowing in advance
What makes him salivate
On cue
Knows the true
Stuff he is made of
And he seeks
Those encounters
With a dark hunger,
Weak
For sustenance.
__________________
It takes courage to love
A woman like me
A commodity
You
Do
Not
Have.
I think it is
Our mistakes which shape us;
That off-course
Unexpected veer
Into unknown dominion
Facilitating
The warriors' quest
We might never have otherwise had;
It is this which makes us.
You are no warrior.
I stand tall
My small body and breasts
More filled with
Spirit and fury
Than you could ever hold.
I do not fear the unsafe
The unsound
The hazardous.
What we risk reveals
What we value
And I risk my heart
Savagely.
Laying in the dark
I re-assemble the aspects of your face
Til the portrait hangs before me
Shimmering in the night
Thinking
You are not so
Beautiful
After all,
No breath-take
No heart-thump
Just a mans' face.
Your maneuvering cowardice
Makes you ugly
And my hearts' eyes are blind
Toward you, now.
You seek the leavings of others,
The entrails of trophies caught and consumed
With gusto
By those brave enough
To heave their arrows
Skyward.
My bed is my own, once more.
I rest from
The Hunt.
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