The W's

Why is the women's touch as tactile as a razor's cut and a feather's tail?

Where along the way a request came for a nail to puncture a blood's veil?

Which of us have the skin, plated this deep thick, to be with a prick, just to produce our kin?

Who in their right mind could have ever called them weak, when both the woman's love and rage destroy worlds?

What's left to ask?

Are you Maybe Great?

You’re one of us if you wake up with wild ideas and make them real.
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