As Women Conversing and Sharing

Love Poem

As women we sit in council and converse,

about fortunes, intuition, reason and destiny.

Women know the story of religion,

begins with male fear of the female sex,

That to begin the war with one's paternal right,

was one half witted's solace in his evil scheme.

And yet where was I yesterday,

that I won't renew and rejuvenate,

when perceiving my thoughts to be contained in your buttocks,

that as your thighs twitter

by the break of your a*s

what rule is there that I would not know it's nectar.

As women close their eyes in disbelief,

at the disarray men tarry

who will not serve each other's body,

severed from it, as though a broken promise, to feel no pleasure, 

no pains, and no gain.

Your a*****e is a golden halo around my psyche,

that to live by what you profess is my sensitivity.

Your a*****e is my song of hope which contains my ascension into heaven in this life,

and what of this reason to state in my sincere awakening.

I am the energy and movement of your organs.

Why would you not say that to me,

that I am, and will only be your s**t,

Why play games with proper names

when to call me your s**t are my thoughts of reason.

To please you now is an act of contrition,

for one who loves your a*s,

and whom you may call  your s**t well spoken of.