Do you believe a man can love a woman and constantly betray her? Betray her in the mind, in the very poetry of his soul? Men do it all the time, not physically.
Do you know how men can love you, feed you that love deliberately to poison your body and mind simply to destroy you? And out of passionate love, chooses not to love you anymore? And at the same time dizzy you with an idiots ecstasy? Impossible?
I can make men feel the painful beauty of a child, the animal horniness of the adolescent male, the yearning suicidal moodiness of the young female. And then show you how time turns man and woman around full circle, exchanged in body and soul.
How about TRUE LOVE? Sexual fidelity? Does it work, Is it love? Is it human, that perverse passion to be with only one person? And if it doesn't work, do you get a bonus for trying?
Life is but a comical business, and there is nothing funnier than love traveling through time. But a true poet can make her audience laugh and cry at the same time.
Death it another story. I will not make a joke about death. I am always alert for death. He doesn't fool me. I spot him right away. He loves to come disguised as TRUE LOVE; a comical wart that suddenly grows and grows. He takes his victim by surprise, but not me. I'm waiting for him.
Parallel to death, love is tiresome, childish business, though men believe more in love than death. Women are another story. We are a powerful secret. The only man who scare me is the one who loves me for myself alone. He cant be allowed to live, especially if he's faithful and never lies and always puts me ahead of everything and everyone. I'll open to him...I'll love him. I will be his.
Do you know how men can love you, feed you that love deliberately to poison your body and mind simply to destroy you? And out of passionate love, chooses not to love you anymore? And at the same time dizzy you with an idiots ecstasy? Impossible?
I can make men feel the painful beauty of a child, the animal horniness of the adolescent male, the yearning suicidal moodiness of the young female. And then show you how time turns man and woman around full circle, exchanged in body and soul.
How about TRUE LOVE? Sexual fidelity? Does it work, Is it love? Is it human, that perverse passion to be with only one person? And if it doesn't work, do you get a bonus for trying?
Life is but a comical business, and there is nothing funnier than love traveling through time. But a true poet can make her audience laugh and cry at the same time.
Death it another story. I will not make a joke about death. I am always alert for death. He doesn't fool me. I spot him right away. He loves to come disguised as TRUE LOVE; a comical wart that suddenly grows and grows. He takes his victim by surprise, but not me. I'm waiting for him.
Parallel to death, love is tiresome, childish business, though men believe more in love than death. Women are another story. We are a powerful secret. The only man who scare me is the one who loves me for myself alone. He cant be allowed to live, especially if he's faithful and never lies and always puts me ahead of everything and everyone. I'll open to him...I'll love him. I will be his.
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