Prelude to a WO/MAN

There is a seductive beast  that lives within, 

Everyone of us WO MEN...

We are made of men, for men...

She hunts and stalks men. 

Vegetarian? Delights in life, "MEAT"

Fleshy, Red, rots if it sits too long.

Leering into the inner most parts. 

Its not obvious but subconscious. 

Men beautiful specimens, to examine.
Deep Dark; bittersweet  Chocolate,
Creamy Milk Chocolate, with  Creamy Carmel swirls,
Ebony rich and creamy, Alabaster  rich and smooth,
supple to the touch.
Oh, no, don't say a word.
We cannot do the double standard.
Women are flowers,
far more opulent with far more specimens, and
a larger phylum .
Our services facilitate more functions.
You ARE an edible.
For OUR delight.

Probe,
touch them,
smell  them,
taste to see if the fruit is
ripe, Juicy and sweet.....
mmmm, is it good.
Their color, should be brilliant,
cobalt blue,
Sunflower Yellow,
Sunburst Orange,
 Magenta, and shades of blue/grey
provocative,
invitations to taste.
Not all of the good pieces are taken.
You just have;
to REALLY look.
Look, not with your eyes,
with your senses.

Don't lay your fragrant flower down at just any temple.
As we cannot serve two Gods, we will learn to love one
and hate the other.
We want to serve only One that is Worthy.
Yes, we do serve, but they also have to SERVE...
What will it really cost. To not substantiate the  trick er
of the generic hybrid pieces.
Genetically formulated in a lab.
Just to fool us....
You know the ones.
They look good,
are nice in color and smell,
Designed to make us want them.

But their insides are rotten, they don't look bad, but
they have no sweetness,
they are tasteless, empty of true flavor....
draining us of all of our vigor,
using us at their whim,
Puffed up with water,
deliberating on our insecurities...
Toss that fruit to the swine.
Wash your hands of the beast,
its not real.

We can master self-control
tame our fears
impulses
we are bold
willful, defy.
This is not our secret identity, it
is who we are.....
Your fortitude is shown by what we
DO.
Stand up, Admitting to me that I am the I.
Don't  dignify by being provoked by
ROTTEN FRUIT,
Moral cowards and brutes.
Courage
Savage, humble virtues
natural instincts to establish composure.
repress claws at empty
I will not turn in pride
against my passion
preserver through self restraint
resistance is futile.
I will end up here anyway.




© 2011 Stefanie Stevens