Up and down, I will look you…
…a capite ad calcem-head to heel.
And, I remember, last time, how I whistled.
And.
Accessit-he came near
ad captandum-for the sake of catching or pleasing
Do you recall the ancien régime-the ancient of order of things: esse quam videri-to be rather than to seem?
You, sugarfoot.
Dignus vindice nodus-a knot worthy of being loosed by such hands like mine, small but strong and soft-enough.
My penchant for sophisticated espièglerie-coltishness becomes an irresistible mystery to men.
I am ‘femme fatale’, without intent to be and unknown until too late. My girdle disarms and gifts unto me gratia placendi-the art of pleasing.
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I refuse the pointed finger of shame. Entirely.
Men, women, Us. are not guilty.
Women are as we are. As we found ourselves to be. So are men.
Once upon a time, a certain group of men weaponized our bodies against us, in order to protect their lack of discipline.
They want to control her but find themselves out of control in their attraction to the ‘thing’ they wish to control.
They fail because what they seek to control is a dynamic being in constant flux. A person can be considered a ‘thing’, but s/he is never the same ‘thing’ moment to moment.
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Pan-fatale: a person, of any gender, that is attracted to the self-created fantasy of the desirable person ; or attracted to s/he exactly as s/he is now. Such a type of person when struck with physical attraction sets themselves up for trouble and strife. People cannot become your invention of them. People will not be who they are now forever. These are impossible things to want from a person.
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Attraction wants that. Wants that what is.
Love adores that. That it is what it is.
What causes trouble or unhappiness in men is of their own creation;
much like the same is true of women;
because woman and man are one and the same;
A person beside themselves. Divided to be united.
I am a Maneater, when the right one presents.
But man wants devouring.
We do not hunt him like prey, we ask him if he’d like to dance.
She. We dance to live and survive. Dodge arrows and coax partners to the ballroom floors.
His hunt moves in steps, to tempos, to ensnare his prey. Make what he desires his.
Danse Macabre.
Most often, he dances for us before we even see him.
Stalks to smite, woo, court, enrapture, and even swoon.
Life dances in our bellies to the tempo of tides.
Life tickles men’s settes. Ammunition locked and loaded and ready to be shot from the firearm’s shaft.
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VERA INCESSU PATUIT DEA
I am glæd it is what is.
Au plaisir de vous revoir,
til I have the pleasure of seeing.
This furor poeticus
poetic rage
this furor scribendi
mania for writing
this Scribbling and Scrawling, ecstatic, continues until a posse ad esse.
from possibility to actuality.
Sweet man, you are adscriptus glebæ-bound to the soil as they used to say of serfs.
I am mare clausum-a closed sea not open to or accessible to more than one land.
Be the realm upon which my waves break.
I am dapes inemptæ-victuals not bought from market
Grown and Handmade at home.
Kindly remember: ignortum pro magnifico
whatever is unknown is held to be magnificent.
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But, by you I would learn and want to be learned. So I tell you my open secret x: the thing that you cannot put your finger on but find magnetizing. May you either decide me not magnificent upon knowing; or, decide me more magnificent upon being told. Time is all I want from you; and I would not waste it.
My Tao is simplex munditils. Plain in neatness; simple in elegance.
I astound when I do not confound. I render dumbstruck. I do not stupefy.
My impetus is lovesome loyalty.
And while loyauté n’a honte, still, I take care to not be impetuous.
The impetus makes me want to rush, so I must not be impetuously loyal.
Breath deep, sugarfoot.
Redolet lucerna
It smells of the lamp
astra castra, numen lumen
the stars my camp, the Deity my lamp.
hine lucem et pocula sacra
from this source we receive light and drafts of sacred learning.
Ours is Via vervorum
The Tao of Words.
WrittenCasey 
writtencasey: a©e. nickreeves
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