The Contender

Surly scent of testosterone

muscles it way to the fore,

Daring all challengers to

break his hold and throw

him to the floor.

 

Sweet perfume and downcast

eyes, a strand of gentle curl,

the slightest tilting of the head

and iron fists unfurl.

 

Parting lips which breathe

a sigh; his head begins

to swim. An upward glance,

a gentle touch; knees

buckle under him.

 

Strength of gentle femininity,

uncalculated power,

caves the strength of any man,

causes massive bulk to cower.

 

Fragility it may appear to be,

but in the slight of frame

does belie the truth of life –

was from Woman that you came.

 

{Inspired by     somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond  by E. E. Cummings}

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