What is a woman?

What makes a woman tick?

What makes her scream and moan and lick?

Why does she smile when she ought to cry?

We're left wondering just how and why.

What is a woman without a man?

What is girl but a reprimand?

Too thin, too fat.

Too light, too dark.

Too much too soon,

Her truth too stark.

What is a woman when the curtains are drawn?

When the lights are out, but it's almost dawn?

What is a woman outside the norm?

Inside her skin, soft and warm?

Is she covered in blankets of her own design?

Is she drifting throughout our subconscious minds?

A woman is a beast made of silk and string.

A majestic animal and a lonely thing.

A woman is a creature of shadow and light,

Of creation itself and harrowing night.