'Who are you?'
Is the one constant question I ask myself?
'A man.'
The answer has come, most times.
Even when I wasn't asking.

Your nature, stature and even adventure is that of a man.
But that is all you have for a man.
For your words are eternal, and though you are only an image of God, I see him in you.
You speak with a foreign tongue, not only in words, but in acts as well.
Mortal man!
Immortality rules your being, as your wisdom would subdue the earth as it has my body.
My heart beats for that man, who speaks of everlasting love.
The love that is real and agape,
As it goes beyond the pleasure of kissing and ******.

Many are those times when I find myself wondering if God, in his very nature has embedded more than just his image in you.
That maybe like Zeus once took the form of a cow,
Jehovah took to your form.
But then for what purpose,
For I am nothing like 'Europa', either in stature or status.
Am neither that beautiful to call for divine attention from such a man as you.
Nor do I hold the crown of a queen on my head to attract a man of your nobility.

May the lord forgive me for using such words that are almost blasphemous,
But all I am saying is that you are the true image of God, yet only a mortal man.
You are A RARE BREED!
And yet like every other man,
You are just a man.