The Missing Rib Poem by Oleg Vorobyov

We know from the mankind's crib
That all men 've got the missing rib.

The truest story ever spoken,
Or written.. The rib was never broken:

It was removed to make our half,
The gentlest one, nor rude, nor rough.

And what of the bone(Y) part we miss
Appears as a Madam or a Miss.

Our better half's the God's device:
The sensuous forms, the lips, the eyes;

The half that fills up what we miss,
The one creating heavenly bliss!

I feel the void, the missing rib,
And say: My honey's not a fib,

Since flesh and blood of warmth and love
Men in my shoes want both by Jove!

The myth has trailed off in black hole...
Still he, she: one integral whole!