“She’s afraid of a light in the dark…”

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It’s elemental warfare.

 

Men are fire.

 

Women are water.

 

And these days, Prometheus’s gift confuses females more than ever.

 

If for no other reason than their lack of familiarity with it.

 

 

 

See, like fire, masculinity can create and destroy.

 

It brings light.

 

It brings warmth.

 

It brings a lack of shelter, by razing such to ashes.

 

It brings death by agonizing burns.

 

 

 

This dearth of touching enough stoves causes women to seek out (due to their fondness for extremes) either the smoldering embers.

 

Or the dangerous conflagrations.

 

Rare is the lady that sees the spark as what is:

 

A gift when properly handled.

 

 

 

The ultimate irony here is, in this primordial conflict, is that women are given the advantage.

 

(Indeed, far too many have drowned in what should be a comforting bath.)

 

As water, they’ve the power to quench the flame far more easily than their opposition can reduce them to steam.

 

 

 

However, should the ideal balance be struck:

 

She confines him to the point of utility and safety.

 

While he boils her enough to power the engine that is the family and its greatest extension:

 

Civilization.  

 

 

 

 

 

Ω