Honorificabilitudinitatibus: A Sonata

Repose
Men examined everybody but used one logic. A man is a male but a woman is a female.
So generalize: genitalize taxonomy.
Not a penis, a vagina (not an ovary) sexes us.
Is a man a woman or a woman a man? Is one human, one mimetic?
Is a man a fake model of a woman?
Or is a woman a robotic image to refer (as a sexeme) to man?
Am I paradoxical? I simulate veracity.

But are we separated, alone? We mix. One model of a family— monogamy—to deter us. A time for a “we”: homolexical. A delicate case: so, monogamy to make sure we get isolated in a line, to get isolated one woman at a time.

Develop

I modulate my motives. I have love, but a hate.

He monopolizes every vocabulary. Lexicas are his alone to divide her up in.

I make my music: a facile logological analysis. I can use my power of “I” to do.
But I lose verisimilitude.

He capitalizes on an ability to maximize his ego. He can eliminate, wed, erase, delete, desire her. It is a rare power if one has a name: his.

I defecate misogyny.
My name to be put on a cover: anodyzed. Academic: I lower anybody.

We run over a woman in a waxy canonical elite limo.

Recapitulate

We war over an imaginative validity.
We men are limited in an inability to be women.

I made her a catatonic animal, a cute sexy baby pet, a magazine.
Before paralytic ego, now a wizened id. I made her a novel. A page.

Literature we gave to men.

I made women a topic. I gave women a deliberately feminine timidity to defer every diminutive minimum. I made her every name we hope we men are not: a woman, a woman I defer a name to.

Coda

Put a woman in every man. I do.
Nobody separate. No syzygy but a sun.
Every vowel a semihemidemimonotone. Synonymy.