Two Bodies of The Same Being

The male body, simple in nature yet deceptive in its use. A representation 
of the direct approach, no room for thought, rationale, often impulsive
when faced with what it desires most.
The male body, the anatomy is only as complex as most choose to see it;
since every human body has scientific data explaining its parts to a
molecular or cellular level.
The male body, an instrument that is often blunt, hard on the outside
and often cold blooded on the inside (depending on the brain).
The male body, often used in regards to hard, manual labor; earning its
stripes from the scars accumulated over the years; being put to use as a
useless male body is a sin in and of itself.
The male body, not much can be said about it (unless you’re Walt
Whitman), the more muscular it is the more attractive it appears to
the public eye; each part being rigorously trained to achieve the height
of perfection…all the male body needs sometimes is a pretty face
and its already halfway there.
This poem doesn’t sing the body electric but it probably sings the body
eccentric as each part and anatomy is more unusual than the other, not
singing the body’s perfection so much as trying to contain the erection
that often plagues the male body’s head.
Overall, the male body is something to take pride in (if it’s been put to
work). Either in intercourse or manual labor; any type of work
is fulfilling to the male body. This side of the coin only concentrates on
the size of its loins.
The female body, or should I say temple? The sacred fountain of youth,
beauty and perfection. As men from hundreds of miles often fall under
the seductive spell.
The female body, or should I say tool of seduction? As even women in
this day and age fall under their own spell, the curviness and smooth
skin that glistens and shines like the sun attracts any and all genders.
The female body, or should I say Tempest of beauty? As some females
age like milk and others like fine wine, as the weight endured often
fluctuates from obese to anorexic; trying to find that middle ground
which exemplifies beauty in its purest form.
The female body, or should I say the Male Playstation? As men’s lust to
touch, feel, embrace and penetrate this beauty often outweigh the
capacity to love the mind and should for the woman who possesses
such a wondrous beauty.
The female body, or should I say courtesan of the world’s oldest
profession? As kings, dukes and nobility had only the youngest and most
gorgeous of mistresses; where age was the enemy and bad for business.
Those who aged like milk would often have to find other ways to
appease the king…with the power of the female mind.
This part doesn’t really sing praise so much as the view these days that
are stated in a number of ways for the female body to be manipulated
and played. Placed on the pedestal as divine, forcing women to work out
until their body is sublime; such impossible standards are crime thus
it is about time we tell the females their bodies are fine.
Though simple on the outside the factor of giving birth makes it
complex on the inside; the bleeding for a week makes it malfunction
but that’s fine as every male will be glad to say “this female body can
be mine.”

Tell me what you think in the comments! I read and reply to all of them and welcome feedback for improving my stories, poetry, and insights. Thanks for reading!

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