Virile schmuck
and ignorant fool,
you think my life is built on sand,
made of a house of cards!
All you see is the top of the iceberg.
I am made of many lives.
I tower above
from below.
Ignorance of your own power
is toxic
to the air you breathe--
me.
Clinging to my leg
with your arms wrapped around
something long and hard
reminds me of when you were a girl.

I would like to discontinue the products
of anger, shock, and trauma,
throw all this poetry back in the ocean,
but you long for me to give you
a third chance
before I have given you a second
of my emotional attachment.

Twist...me...and shout...at me
and show me the
fairest of them all.
I looked in the looking glass and saw
YOU,
your supple skin, your innocence, your naivete, your idealism.
Someone said that women are pragmatists who hide behind emotions
and men are emotional people who hide behind pragmatism--like honor.
Only pragmatists should make the big decisions.
Should I return your tiara?