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Rated: 18+ · Editorial · Adult · #264046
The carnal attraction of flowers.
It is a universal truth, or at the very least a majority consensus. Most women adore flowers, arranged and otherwise. Most men could care less. Sure, they look nice but, come on... What really is the attraction?

I've got a theory when it comes to the intricacies of men/women relationships and the undisputed draw of flora.

Just watch a woman who receives a lush bouquet of roses, complete with the deep-green fern fill, spotted with randomly placed dirty white baby's breath. In fact other women who serve as mere witnesses to the exchange of this age-old gift seem to have the same reaction as the receiving party. Their mood warms to compassion, their tensions wane, their outward expression is that of ease and relaxation.

As the moment presses on, their pulse quickens, their faces flush with intense excitement, their hormones begin to shift into overdrive, and their newly discovered sense of exhilaration melds quickly into an elated euphoria, blinding their better sense of judgment, and they begin to want that giver for themselves.

Now, I'm not a woman. But this scene I've just described has been played and replayed throughout history, and the results are generally the same. Women clearly have within them an uncontrollable and passionate irresistibility to flowers.

I'm convinced the effects have a direct correlation to men and their own feelings for flowers.

First, look at a rose. Beautiful, isn't it? How its slender form gracefully curves into blossoming petals, each one a work of art in itself. And how each tender petal encompasses and surrounds its delicate stamen, the epicenter, the area that craves pollination.

This floral masterpiece is only duplicated one other time in all of nature, in all the known universe. No, not an oyster. Think of how delicate, how fragile and yet how powerful is the rose's aura. Then think of women themselves, and perhaps more specifically, the female anatomical system. How it has an incredible, mind bending aural presence of its own. How its slender shapely form glides and saunters its way through life as if to some visionary symphony, unyieldingly entertaining an audience of the mind incessantly.

Women are blown away by the gift of flowers. Men are blown away by the gift, or presense, of women. Both flowers and women have distinct appearances and aromas. Both have unique powers unequaled in nature, and just as mysteriously magnetizing. Both have a velvet feel to the touch during their prime. And both are held in almost reverently high esteem despite their fragile construct and nature.

But the truth is, the immense chasm that has always separated men and women will continue to do so until we can step back and take a truly objective look at the reality. Men and women both have their unrequited loves, their driving desires which are never fully experienced in perfection. This leads us to an awful, paradoxically-tragic truism: men and women lust after very different things. With men things revolve around the physical; with women, the emotional. There is much truth to adage that men think, while women feel. Though, in case of a small minority, the opposite is true.

So their way of looking at flowers has a parallel to our way of looking at them; hence the trusty gift of those crimson buds in a vase have the same effect on them as does the way we trip over ourselves when they gracefully lean over a rail, or wear incredibly revealing articles of clothing, or simply glide by us as on a cloud of air, touching the ground with every progressive step but with such elegance our whole lives are caught in the dragnet that is their wake. And we don’t dare breathe lest we miss one of her flawless motions.

So it isn't really the roses themselves that attract women any more than it is the sheen of their gentle skin that we desire. The roses are merely a physical representation of what a woman needs; love and affection, compassion and generosity, forethought and stability. Whereas it isn't really their figure or even their smile that is at the root of our urges, but what those things can provide for us; an outlet for lustful desire, power and reputation. And not domineeringly, but simply the occurrences that our overreacting testosterone drives us to feel unfulfilled without. Men need women as badly as women need men.

In the end, both sexes are actually quite similar. We all have varying needs and search with all our might for ways to quench them. Women find satisfaction in the bouquets of floral arrangements, an emotional payoff. Men find it in women themselves, which usually is a physical one. Such simple creatures we are…
© Copyright 2001 A.K. Thorn (kanerowel at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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