Poem: My Scent

I excrete pheromone from my flesh pores,
which induce in those effected by it,
a fervent desire to rescue, to aid, to shelter,
to protect, my beautiful being, from the
Harsh Evils present everywhere in the World.
An erotic scent which plays with
dominance and submission sexily,
while simultaneously riding the razor-thin wire
of co-dependence, smearing both with superfluous heaps
of reality periodically.

Contrarily, to the Harsh Evils, my scent can be
almost instantaneously enraging.
Causing insistent salivation, wetness, and half-erections,
at the hint of tainting my perceived innocence.
The magnetic desire Evil feels to soil the Good,
to bring them down to the Evils own pain and affront.

A Jealousy, a spite, a rumor, a lie.
Oh yes, they smell me to.
To the rest I am a Neutral, an "OK"
neither here nor there,
not one nor the other,
so-so and that's that.

How rare they are, the Neutral Ones,
in these days of Good and Evil.
These days of two positions:
Drastic, Caustic, and Mad.