its the age old battle, the nature of a man versus his morals/
looking passed physical attributes and allowing her energy to be the portal/
external beauty without humility presents a stage for fragile spirits to break/
she hiding her complexities behind exploited flesh and empty innuendoes with her character at stake/
for moment i was caught up in the sway of her hips but the eyes never lied/
the left me glimpses of pain, fear and the lack of confidence where a full soul should reside/
the physical appetite exposes the carnivore in me that i thought was hidden/ 
it is that part of me that leaves me as vulnerable as her when her fruit is not forbidden/
I can walk away a thousand times but that one time i slipped is what makes me the statistic/
the one just like all the rest, the man, the dog, the prey to the promiscuous/
The body's dialect is critical especially when the blood flow is a factor/
its not moment that is the problem its the many moments there are after/
hormones are not always harmonious but they will never decline/
i may not always win the this war, but the battle must be worth my time/