The curves in her thighs,
Or the dip her waist gives,
The fullness of her lips,
The glow in her eyes;
The flatness of her nose,
Or the swing of her hips;
The weight of her breasts
The length of her neck,
The spring in her steps,
The shape of her legs;
What makes her a woman?

Her lazy smile,
Or the mischief in her eyes?
Her capacity to cook?
Or her ability to produce an offspring?
Is it the submission she brings?
Or the Ego in her stride,
Her beauty?
Or its just the length of her hair?
What makes her a woman

Her sensual art,
Or her carnal desires,
Is it her sexual prowess,
To ride till dawn,
Like a Nymphomaniac,
Taking nothing,
But giving everything,
Or is it the tender nature;
Her discipline, aura and willingness to please.
What makes her a woman?

Her fears and desires?
Or her stubborn streak?
A homemaker?
A Brainiac?
A Beauty?
A hard worker?
Or a lazy ass?
A tempter ?
Or a whore?
A bad cook?
A hot temper?
What makes her a woman?
Certainly more than what’s between her thighs.