This poem was inspired by Mighty Mom's comment on my I Hunger hub. She said, "the hunter becomes the hunted, the thrill is in the chase, and all that usual male as pursuer stuff turned right back at them."
I realize not all men are such predators, so don't get your hackles up. But for those that are, this poem is for you.
Next time I will be like a man
Prowling for a delicious form
I will shove my emotions
Firmly in my back pocket
And lead with my hormones
My heart bound and locked
I will track the pheromones
And pounce on the sleekest of the pack
Then stand proudly over my kill
Devouring you until I’ve had my fill
I will please you then I will leave you
At the inkling of complication
With no remorse or reservation
For it was always about the hunt
Never about the prey
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