women are not
majestic creatures
bathed in the power
of goddesses
they do not
take flight as doves
or light belltowers
with magic fire
please understand
I’m trying to be romantic
I wish to write the truth
young men are boys
possessed of a profound
fondness for themselves
in the way they wish
to make women move
at their touch
to hear women scream songs
to their devoted captors
and boys surrender willingly
to be mutilated
by predators
this exchange of wills
is a dance
with uncountable steps
though it ends
the same way
with fragility, and
the minstrel
tormented by
his muse

© Emerys Watchel, 2016 All rights reserved.


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