The Girl-Woman–the Diva.  The diva is cool enough to be Queen of all people, but isn’t.  She is given her space.  Her man bows, serves and loves.  Her fingers hold the power to give and to dismiss, with a flick or a gesture to show.  She is fawned over, and stroked in affection.  The things she has and the things that are beautiful are all together, all hers.  When she chooses, it is to make or to break.  It is to be a friend, a love, a mistress, a commander, or a thief.  Divas are both hated and loved, because they do anything and everything that they want to do.  They deny anything that isn’t.  We watch divas… everywhere, but especially if they are on stage.  They are absolutely beautiful.  All women hate them, and mall men love them.

I look at the beauty of a statuesque diva.  She is still, and always, without the true age.  She can hold your gaze, if she dislikes you…  Beyond every other human being, but that is a rare occurrnce in demonstration.  MOre likely the space that is around a diva keeps everyone except whom she likes, away from her.  They are the personification of wealth.  With the merest of action of strength, they can move oveans and mountains.  Beware, an angry diva.

A cat fight will break out.  The women and the diva.  At the end of the four-letter screaming match, the toy dogs carried in purses will be let out, off their leashes, and flying fur will ensue.  Only the arrival of statuesque men, biceps bursting through shirts, will able able to recapture the dogs and save the diva from breaking her nails.  Everyone will run away, carrying their precious cargo.

A diva has no bad habits, so they are of course, only admired by everyone.  The envy of a diva is in her need to be loved, which she displays only with the most best friends, or though the entourage of men that she keeps.  She is forever unreachable, the Rapunzel that holds the key to the door at the bottom of the tower.  Woman all see their own imaginary tower, their own imaginary entourage, and make lists of their most best friends to surround themselves with.

The diva is the epitome of women.  The most powerful, the most loved, the most wealthy, the most beautiful.  All the things that women want, are had by the diva.  So, how do we compare?

I think that if I have everything that I want, then, I will make the comparison.  The diva is n that  place.  I will be in that place, because I know where it is.