He was afraid of her femininity.
He had never met a woman who was beautifully satisfied with being a woman.
The power was hers alone. She was gentle and quiet. It was in her subtle acts, and kind words. It was in her dreamer’s gaze and the intensity of her eyes; her impartial attention, intricate observations, and an understanding he could not bare. She had it all, brought it all and gave it all. She left his mind unwound, heart full and body rejuvenated. An antedote ran through her veins and into his soul, ridding him of the poisons of past loves. And as he held her for a brief moment, he believed it all belonged to him.
But he was a simple minded man and so, he let it all slip away. She became, in a impulsive moment, a passing spring breeze full of floral scents and promise of life but never to be grasped with his hands.
R. A. Douglas
March 21, 2015.