Thursday, February 05, 2004

Why My Woman don't grow no beard

Lazy Sunday morning.
Watching my woman staring at herself
intently on the mirror, with tweezers,
searching for that
nascent one culprit of a minute
hair on her chin,
I am confused.

For I too had stood before
the same mirror,
sometime ago,
and was depressed because,
one single hair from my
scalp was found on the comb.
One. Not two or twenty.
Suddenly, I felt so aged and insecure.

But why should my woman
pull out that one teeny-weeny
hair from her cute
chin, as though it
was a blemish on her
otherwise good looking face?

The question was of a single hair.

But both of us viewed it differently.
I was worried that it was
disappearing, and she, for the opposite.

So I ask her why ?

“Why, you think I
would look good to you
if I grew it ?” she asks seriously.

She was
viewing her, herself,
as I would look at her.

Whereas, I looked at
myself, as someone else
would look at me.

Honestly, I was worried I might
become less appealing to
women,, if I had a
bald pate (was I ever more ? I
like to fancy myself I was ).

Whereas, my woman wanted
to please only me.

Who ever said women were vain creatures,
couldn’t have been more wronger.


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