deepundergroundpoetry.com

Whatever I think I know of men and love

(for the "How much you think you know a man" comp)  
     
It would be easy to let these words slip softly    
into the blood-swollen flesh folds    
of a man's most primary        
primitive psychology.    
To hungrily spit-stroke the length of his ego    
with naughtily submissive little upward glances                    
through doe-like eyelashes    
weighted with pop-culture-magazine measures of mascara.                    
   
Sure, theoretically I'd have his cock covered:        
locked down by letting out        
the most comparable        
ample leash length;        
I could be a fertile overflow -        
a treasure of a mistress.                    
                   
But formulas are useless in speaking natural disasters        
you only reach him deep by embodying your force.            
Games are for the playful nature, keeping up with romance        
hooking harder, chasing an adventure; love, though -                    
                   
he falls in love                    
when your polar insides                    
wrap around all his 9 lives                    
wherever you are on the timeline                    
not overthought                    
nothing under-felt                    
when he sees you as an equal                    
[pedestal infatuation is fragile as a flower stem]                    
   
when nails traveling bodies                    
isn't only                    
about grand finales                    
where fidelity isn't for property                    
and there's mutual respect                    
                   
when laughing is important                    
when fighting means                    
you each have minds                    
when a kiss can have                    
a thousand moods                    
when you                    
are                    
and he                    
is                    
and you                    
fit.                    
                   
   
Yeah, you can make a man fall in some kind of love.        
But faced up, what fool would set out to conquer papier mache    
when the volcano offers her glory?                    
                   
                   
                   
                   
              __________                    
                     
P.S. "A watched pot never boils"                    
                                        -Unknown
                   
              __________
Jestalessa
Written by Jestalessa
Published | Edited 3rd May 2016
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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