Getting a Lover and not a Husband through a Personal Ad

Shopping

The personal ad reads like this;
A woman, 35 years, a chimera,
Selene, on those days, she decides to flash,
Just for the sake of being alive,
In Godiva’s exuberance.
The sun goddess, when she burns,
Everything on her path, especially
Men with flakey thin morals,
Sometimes, she is like Demeter ,
Aging slowly, like a vintage wine,
Decanting in mouth-to-mouth plumbing,
And before all, she is a nymph,
Who doesn’t believe in coupons,
Or finger-orbiting rings,
Only the muscle of one flesh,
Made of convicted carnivores, obese fools,
Legendary lovers, searching
For a die-hard drone, for a queen
With no baby ambitions.
She is louder than any holler,
Possessing the lungs of a screamer,
And love, what else but that commodity,
She will trade with a pledge,
Not for an un-lapsed eternity,
Only that it will inflate beyond,
Any price, when she and you,
Will only be serial offenders
Of a nonsensical love.

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