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***************************** people fall in love over tables not over oatmeal but at restaurants cupid arrows fly the china clink-chimes and the glasses ching-ching the smiles grow enticingly wide so wide you'd think they were eating one another not the salad truth: men like the chase dazzle with wine and dine until familiarity arrives like a pulled stocking and unravels everything the once alluring face and charms wane and become thinned but I prefer spending time and not counting moments and finding out how thoughts and sentences coincidentally collide and rhyme and could possibly make-up a lyric to a gathering song between me and him women draw their breaths in and hold onto them to a point fixed in the air their eyes lingering long and holding on to the moment men are adept at the pant and the stare tongues waggling on about themselves when woman fills the conversation where she can and feigns at rapt interest when the attention span wane a man's eyes betray and begin to scout other potential prey lurking 'round men are up in their heads while women think with their faces sometimes revealing it all giving the man too much information women are on the menu and men have limiting appetites if she's the daily-gourmet-special she's out of the line of his site/sight wildness and variety and consumption by satiety is a combination the man, like a Greyhound, chooses to pursue while I would rather eat alone than nibble bites of every man I chew still we carry on with two separate ideas of romance he the lion I the gazelle across a table taking my chance at this game called pursuit I know one must eat to survive yet I don't wish to be devoured to feel alive I'm not the dish nor the leftovers the first course the main course nor even the soup mister look at me you're hungry but don't you dare play with me like I was your food. LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM 3:47PM PST 9/26/2022 MONDAY DATE AND TIME STAMPED AND ALSO FOR THIS WRITER MELISSA A. HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED AND REGISTERED SITE TITLE MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD Vote for this poem |
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