Pristina

In a room of devout heat,I find myself meditating in front of her eyes. The imprint of my hands, on her inner thighs.Coordinated kisses on her fragranced neck. Each breath, a levitation. A resuscitated romance. Bedsheets on the apartment floor, as though an army had come to vanquish all who were present. In this moment there is only peace in her presence. I am not a prisoner of irrational ideations. I have entered the land of no men, where the structures by which we adhered to, no longer live in realm. There is no judgment in this land, where I now find my peace. Before me empires have risen and in hotel beds we lay as mortal men. This woman before me who feels like a dream. Surreal to the touch, serene in her speech. She is a painting before me, in the ivory night. If each man, has a destiny, one which he upholds; then nations would surrender their arms and the world. She brings composure to a man who yearns for the earth, in the jewelled hours of morning in Pristina, I gaze at the sun grazed outlines of a pearl. She speaks of the theories in her mind which she initially constructed. Sensing that I am a frivolous man, detained by my passions, of women and of justice. In the moment, I stutter and I question her words. Now I admit to the injustice of my initial reactions. Who am I to say that she is misrepresenting the truth, when deep down her words are factual? Men have allowed this inertia amongst the ego, to create depictions of our morality, where the truth is not measured by features of rationality. I say this not to confuse, but to rather allude, as deep within the soul, the truth is rarely misconstrued. I am an advocator of seeking timeless beauty in women, not just the aesthetic of her body & and face, but the immersions of her intelligence. There is no stronger armour in this world than a beautiful woman, with a mind like a philosopher queen, amongst strategists and strugglers. I have seen men fold when faced with this kind of woman. Their hearts become weak with seduction and fear, we know that women are the soul of this earth and so we, the  men rarely persevere. We subjectively and readily degrade our women. Slowly deconstruct their psyches, suppress their passions and use it against them. We have mastered the art of hypocrisy and that of confusion, we bed numerous women yet defame the opposite gender for similar interactions. Historically we have segmented our women in numerous factions. Created laboratories of beauty within society’s mind. Devising a plan to decide which type of woman is the most preferable. White against black, petite against large, sacrilegious against non-believing, we the patriarchy of man.

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