That’s What Women Are

Cutouts of a short red skirt, a white Panama hat on a gold clutch, a brown eye, perfume, oval Victorian brooch, a woman doing a front split, a crown on the doodle face of a woman, and a teardrop earring.

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Happy Women’s day. I hope that all women secretly thinks alike, and that this poem - compared to women, I compare thee, and brave womanhood, drools with the quintessence of women’s sensuality, and as well as women’s yearnings.

That's What Women Are
Big bright stars in space
A large shinny crown on our head 
Sitting, on the highest of all chairs
Adored, loved, all time long 
Women, always our stars rise
We are, the turn on symbol 
The milky way, in between our legs 
A wild blue diamond, in space 
Our woumb, a curving dome 
Inside, that egg of yours
The yolk, of this existence 
That soil, which welcomes your root 
We are, fermented sweet fruits 
That keep them, oh so drunk 
And with our mouth, we devour the space 
And with our teeth, we tear up the sky
Women, always oh so misunderstood 
Afflicted, by those hormones 
These chemicals that burn inside
Morphing us, into the women we are
That's what women are 
Wild wide stretching skins
Who cloth, this infinite body
Staring down, at what's earthly 
Our love, is locked in our breast 
That we open, when love's needed 
Our lovely bosom, is so warm
That just one night, in our arms 
Can instantly, melt your heart  
That's what, a woman is, 
The deep jar, of your heart
The one, who waits patiently 
The one, who forgives everything 
The one, who loves abundantly.

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