the feminine is not
the shape and arch of a toned physique
nor the flex of muscled arms and petite belly in taut skin
her beauty is not
the proposal of available sex
or the pheromone gist
and embodiment of eager youth
temptation’s awareness bites this fruit
the souls of many embodied, supple in divine flesh
Durga ridicules the self indulgent simplicity
and Penelope mocks
the modern lovers' antiphonies
for a sonnet echoes within her every curve
she is nurturing and time, sustenance and bequest
there is strength in her awareness
and power in her words
and the quest is to possess
her very existence
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