Monday, September 5, 2016

Late August...

For surely, the rest of me knows
When I am getting rubbed on the inside-
Those G-spots are wailing.
Does the rest of me too-
Hear the rustic cries of unsatisfied?
The parched whimper echoing when ovulation begs audience?
Turning up that heat
I am stricken by madness
To quell the snapping jaw
Of a mouth that needs feeding.
Wow. To write of the body's love
Its selfish wish to succeed
Who, I wonder, is stronger?
The will to want or the flexing muscle of restraint?

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