Am I assuming too much? Why not be horny for peace instead!

CAIRO – Ema Mostafa, a village girl was shot and killed last month when she dared to spit in the face of the man who groped her.

~ Los Angeles times taken from article by Reem Abdellatif

I looked up the word groped in the Urban dictionary,  http://www.urbandictionary.com/, and it means what I know it means but put the word down and dirty on the kitchen table.  It defines the word as to touch or fondle someone sexually to get em horny! This man was horny but the 16-year-old woman was not. The fact that she was brave enough to go up against a patriarchal system that she did not create amazes me. I think of all the young women who did not.

Think of all the women who did not…pause! This man was not charged with taking this young woman’s life. So he has done it before and will most assuredly do it again. Am I assuming too much? The article does not speak of any relationship between this man and young woman. The fact that she spit into the man’s face tells us the whole story very clearly.

Cairo Egypt on the red sea part of the Nile Delta. Oh Cleopatra! She now adds to her hidden army of women in the eternity of the afterlife , waiting. This death does not go unknown to the world.   Ema is brought up and out to  our attention knowing that here in the united states there is an accountability associated with such as action against any woman.   She would find justice here, hopefully so!

I see a multitude of Ankhs turned toward this part of the fertile crescent. Forcing them to put down their political beliefs and ideologies and work strictly towards drafting a constitution for their [our] Nation.  Why not be horny for peace and communication, where men and women come together in the continuity of history that goes back before this hateful inane patriarchy. CAIRO ! Listen to your women! Something old and new calls this place of women and their young girls and it is not to succumb to the hands of disrespectful men.

Song Of Solomon Chapter 4 1-2.

How beautiful you are, my love

how very beautiful!

Your eyes are doves

behind your veil.

Your hair is like a flock of goats,

moving down the slops of Gilead.

Your teeth are like a flock of

shorn ewes

that have come up from the washing

all of which bear twins,

and not one among them is

bereaved

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