In Praise of Minds That Sparkle: The Matador's Muse

 In a world where beauty often steals the gaze,

The Matador’s heart, in different ways, is ablaze.
For him, the true allure lies not in curves or lines,
But in the brilliance of a mind that shines.

He worships not the light of stars or moon’s soft glow,
But the radiance of intellect that women show.
Those with thoughts deep as the ocean, wide and vast,
Whose insights into mysteries are unsurpassed.

Women who weave words like fabric, intricate and fine,
Whose conversation is like sipping aged wine.
Their wisdom, a beacon that guides him through the night,
In their intelligence, he finds his greatest delight.

Philosophers, poets, scientists, and sages,
Women of letters, throughout the ages.
Their minds, a labyrinth of endless intrigue,
In their presence, he feels like a league.

He dreams not of idle chatter or fleeting flirt,
But of dialogues that challenge, heal, and hurt.
A partner in debate, a comrade in search of truth,
With a woman of wisdom, he reclaims his youth.

For it’s in the exchange of ideas, a meeting of minds,
That the Matador his truest pleasure finds.
A smart woman’s allure, timeless and profound,
In her intellect, his soul’s counterpart is found.

So here’s to the women, with minds sharp and keen,
Your brilliance, the most captivating scene.
The Matador adores, with respect and awe so true,
The magnificent intellect that resides in you.

  • The Matador

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