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Mon Jul 7, 2014, 01:19 AM

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This message was self-deleted by its author (theexwife) on Fri Aug 22, 2014, 05:46 PM. When the original post in a discussion thread is self-deleted, the entire discussion thread is automatically locked so new replies cannot be posted.

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Reply This message was self-deleted by its author (Original post)
theexwife Jul 2014 OP
Paul Edward Snyder Aug 2014 #1

Response to theexwife (Original post)

Sat Aug 9, 2014, 01:50 AM

1. Dancing with the Devil


His arm around her waist
Her hand upon his shoulder
Around the room
They spin

He whispers
Not endearments
Not the flattering tongue
Of the rogue he is
Being a man

But truth
A baring of the soul
He sings
A song of dread
And deep foreboding

A song of love
He never can truly feel
Being a man
But can idealize

As he bares his soul
His self
For her ears alone
To hear
Her eyes alone

To see
He says
I kill
I destroy
It is what I enjoy
It is what I am
Being a man

Her hand tightens
His arm relaxes
Her lips tighten
And in her eyes
He sees disgust

He bows his head
His eyes fixed on the floor
He chokes
The words
He cannot easily say
Being a man

There is something of you
Deep within me
That curbs my appetite
For seeing
And exulting in the pain of others

The terror I hear from them
While tearing
Limb from limb
And being a man
As their screams
Split apart the soft and silent fabric
Of the night

Through your eyes
Being a woman
I share their pain
And do not exult in it
But would allay it
Would prevent it

Heal it
Offer comfort
Soften my touch
No longer a man
Feel shame

For being a man
And doing what I do
Driven as I am
As a man

Her hand falls away
And rises to his cheek
He backs away
A bit
His arm lifts
To just below
Her shoulder blade

And around the room
They spin

She whispers
Not condemnations
Nor contempt
Of the rogue he is
Being a man
And she
A woman

But truth
Sharing her soul
She murmurs
Sweet sound of sympathy
And a warning of her own

Of objectivity
She cannot truly feel
Being a woman
But can idolize

She says
I do not bare my soul
I say what others want to hear
Commonality is my goal
I want to feel what others feel
And others to be like me
Or I like them

I say I understand
When I do not
I feel your pain
Being a woman
She says
I am who I am

Her hand tightens
His arm relaxes
His lips tighten
And in his eyes
She sees incomprehension
And just a bit
Of domineering disdain

She looks into his eyes
On her face
And realizes
He does not want to be understood
Being a man

There is something
Of him
Deep within her mind
That disturbs
A feeling that there is no feeling
In him
Being a man

And being a woman
There is nothing more comforting
Than the joy
Of sharing feelings with another
Of being one
Being cherished
The focus of another life

She bows her head
And being a woman
Tries to find some commonality
Some point at which they touch
To step outside herself
Which she cannot
Comfortably do

But being a woman
And somewhere
In a deep dark hidden place
A manly part
Struggling to speak
She tries
And tries
And tries

And thus
We have
The interplay
Of a predator
And its prey

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