squint at a woman, for her light astounds / her curves travel round / and twist your thoughts into unhinged desire. / smoke and fire / blaze behind eyes / a maze leading to a soul you can only touch / if you must / enter the labyrinth with care. / dare to open her, gently like gift wrapiing that’s been used before / too beautiful to tear / although shows wear / from last year’s roughness. Touch this skin / many moons lived, and many more gained wisdom for / birthdate belies age and wrinkles give way / like furiously scribbled adventures on a once smooth page. Read her story from cover to cover / if you wish to love her / seek no other / she will flood your cup runneth over / no lower can you stoop then to fear her eyes / as she weeps as her tears fall and leap into monsoons / her wails disorient your sails / enrage the seas / dislocate the stars from their shine / for we carry the divine / in bellies either bloody or full / lifeforce in breasts either caressed or pulled / adored and abhorred / battered and beloved / we still give you life / in strife we birth the eternal.
Squint at a woman, and if you dare / open her gently. A true servant will recieve to her power, the key, yet false seekers of shallow treasure are many.