Maiden

What a piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how
infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and
admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like
a god!  --Hamlet, Act II, Scene II

If anyone who knows me reads this you will know something of me.... I love men.

Men of all shapes and sizes and worth. Tall and lanky, short and round. Asian, Mexican, black, white. I love to see them at their strength, weakness and sweating like a horse over some menial task. I love beer bellies and washboard abs. I love to see them cry in movies, and hide their emotions when saying something important to someone they love. I love the way they smell. How they bark when they know they are wrong.

I love men in jeans, suits and nothing at all. I find them fascinating in uniform. I find them sexy in a bathrobe and slippers.

Most of my readers will know I have been married more than twice. I love deeply and passionately, and like a roman candle, eventually I 'poof' my last. I still look at the man near me. I find them sexy in their own way. Does the hair curl over their ears, or do they shave it all with a Bic twice a week?

I flirt relentlessly. I smile and coo and touch them on the arm. I can make them laugh and even if they are the most sour-I can get a smile. There is some promise in me when I carry on. That I am uncatchable, except by you.

The truth is, I am Wild Woman. I cannot be caught. I cannot be tamed. I cannot live under the premise that you will keep me until I am old. That means I would get old. I have an untamed heart that has been broken too often to be held in a pair of hands. If you love me, really love me, and want my love in return you must do one thing. Actually love the crazy, wild, sweet, innocent maiden that has long gazed at the eyes of men, and found both beauty and insanity.

One of my many loves told me once that I was a great fisherman-of men. Apparently I have been on the catch and release plan. But, baby, I will always love you.