Throwback

You are a mental giant but an emotional atavist. Like the old cliche, your forcefulness of personality hit me over the head and you dragged me back to your dank, primordial mind cave, By the hair of course. And you also took me, consumed me and made me bleed... with my dark hair in your fists your lips on my throat all the while promising a steady diet of wooly mammoths a bear-skin bed and the eternally-burning fire on which we would toast teradactyl wings and warm our dirty feet. Only you knew all the while you would eventually tire, find another victim, ban me from your cave and toss me to saber-toothed tigers, having gotten exactly what you wanted. Ignorant to the depths of my unbounded devotion to you, (what you once called my candor and tenderness with poetic grunts) you are now doomed to forever be concerned only with your neanderthal needs and your immature, primal self. My darling cro-magnon, reflecting in the clarity of the sunshine and inspired by the warmth of meat-scented breath on my face, I have decided that my priestess womb will no longer be the petri dish for your long overdue evolution.