Close Be the Wahine

I've been accused of developing infatuations with girls who I am in the company of, particularly a company that is frequent. This accusation is alone -- as a statement -- true; however, the tone of these words which are thrown imply a knock against me for not having looked beyond what is at a time, present. Ad hoc. Here. The one I'm spotting now. I do not actively hunt but when the game is right before me in all its casual glory, oh yes I do tend to admire what symmetry I do, I do see. And how can I not? There are museums dedicated to appreciation, halls set firmly in their foundations with the sole proposition to show you beauty.

And I see beauty.


There's a good in you that satisfies. For having seen someone as you yourself, as the individual by fate I have had the blessing to come across, I rejoice. I did not know you stepped earth, darling. It absolutely delights me to know you were here when I saw you, otherwise I would not know at all how tremendously Aphrodite you are. Now, if something were amiss, no admiration sprouted from our proximity, well that too reveals that not all of the fairer sex warrant my attention. There does exist the woman, shall we say, less noble. Give me the good and yes I will return with utmost gratitude. Show & Tell me you're a good girl. I like that.

What you've just read is not just a declaration; it's also a bit of a warning. So heed this:

Because it's what I do.

And I see the beauty in you.