May I not see her when I cross her path, may I not hear her
when she calls from across the street. May she be far from me always, may I not
comprehend the things she says to me, may I not understand her gestures and her
meanings. The woman with ill intention.
I like to look a man in the face when he speaks to me, you
can tell what they mean and don’t mean, when they hide and where they pretend.
And for women it is but the same. She speaks with an intention to deceive me.
Her eyes smile as she looks me directly in the eye with her mouth curled into a
mischievous smile. She croons softly, seductively. She says one thing but means
another. She suggests things and actions
with the speech of her words and body. She raises her voice in the street, that
its timbre will cause you to turn.
