Who Is Eve? Poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes

She is that girl you always meet,
As you walk down a busy street;

That officegirl across the hall,
Or someone's partner at a ball;

That dearest love now in your arms,
Or song diva with haughty charms,

Covered with beauty's coat-of-mail;
Or well exposed, in fashion's trail;

Are cavemen spared these glaring sights?
Just clubbing Eve on mating nights?

Of lore and myths sages employ,
Nefertiti, Helen of Troy,

How it escapes comprehension,
Eve's mysterious predilection;

What is she made of, cream and spice?
And liking men, but fearing mice?

Adam knows not how Eves are done,
He was asleep when God made one.