There are women…
And then, there are women, women…
You shouldn’t try to understand them —
that would be a lost battle from the very start.
You have to accept them. Just that.
You have to take them and kiss them, without giving time —
no time for overthinking.
You have to conquer them in an embrace
that silences their storms and the fear
that knows how to break you — once,
just once, without a word, with a muted cry.
Because they go mad from their own frailties, and
after whispering them to us, they suffer —
in a slow, wordless agony — at the thought that,
by revealing their face,
showing their femininity,
exposing their need in a moment unguarded,
they might see your back turned
and your footsteps walking away.
So draw them close, and love them.
Love them clothed — because
naked, they’re all beautiful.
Love them unguarded, without makeup, just as they are —
because you never know
when a woman’s eyes might find a shield
behind a veil of powder.
Love them when they’re drowsy,
wounded, and sleep weighs them down.
Love them knowing they don’t need you —
they know how to be enough for themselves.
And precisely because of that,
they’ll know how to love you
in a way no one else ever has before.
