March 21, 2008
By Jordan Kalms, Tarzana, CA

I am woman’s glaring lips
Which shine with a red fury
And loudly seem to then eclipse
The voices of her jury.

I am woman’s soft, cool eyes
Which catch you once and only
That always deafen wise reprise
And once push out the lonely.

I am woman’s sweet perfume
Which covers up a flaw
I am an enchanting fume
That causes quiet awe.

I am woman’s rosy cheeks
That flush when we beguile
Barely moving when she speaks
But always for a smile

I am woman’s brief, swift wink
That’s only caught when looking
Only bought by cash or drink
And makes up for her cooking.

I am woman’s doughy hand
Which do all of her bidding
And can destroy you on command
Or snap and say she’s kidding.

I am woman’s unsafe whim
Which calls and then denies
That appears both crass and prim
And act on her surmise

Lastly, I am woman’s mind
Whose fury’s burned by coal
The price, you ask me to remind
Will cost one of your soul.

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