The reason I maintain not the garden's gate,
Is the desire to remain within God's good grace.
Men's perceived paradise, easy boundary
Set by self-consciousness.

What started out as sloth has now become
Conscious decisions, to remain unruly.
What woman would allow the jumping of
The gate when weeds take the place of flowers?

Alabaster skin, with smooth even tone
And freshly manicured brows
Makes a liar of the rarely exposed
Which more oft than not, is avoided.

All these realities visit often my thoughts
On dates, where Romeo begins to whisper sonnets
Into delicate ears adorn with jewels,
-That there is terror just beneath the surface.

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