War of The Sexes
My ramparts stood atop a hill, looked down and out for me.
My little world was lined in self-sufficient glory till you
Came along that night and blasted holes the size of fists
In the armor of my soul. I was shell-shocked, yet you
Never raised a hand to me. You offered me no threats,
But you devastated my security like an army with artillery.
You laid a siege and won by surfeit. Truth transparent,
I saw no deceit in you, still you tore away my fascia
And weakened every buttress, nestling in the curve of my distress.
You burrowed in and hunkered down, eating away at my defenses.
You were water eroding the mortar between my stones.
Tear drop by tear drop you wore resolve to stand aloof away;
You took me captive with a woman's underhanded weapons:
A single touch, a cock-eyed smile, and laughter so infectious
I was lost before I even felt the darts you launched.
A truce, I beg of you! Let there be an end to our hostilities.
Let this entreaty serve as treaty; I wave the flag of truce.
I lay me down, utterly defeated, at your feet,
And promise you that I shall go to war no more!
© Nyuka Anaïs Laurent 5/16/96