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Literature
Sex Object
Between her legs, lies something that
every man seems to want.
A place where she should be able
to call her own, between her legs.
She feels that men only want her,
a true want, to have sex with her, and
walk away.
The breasts she has, they gain
stares from men passing by, tripping
over themselves to find a chance to touch.
When will she stop being looked at,
as an object of sex? when will a man
see her as someone he may spend his
life with?
Her hips curve, and she doesnt
want your hands on them, if your
just going to touch her skin.
She wants a man to touch her soul,
not just touch her skin, and run his
Literature
Sex is
I lay back
and wait
for you
you get ready
you ask me
to close
my eyes
i smile
my lashes
fall
i can hear
eveything
i can feel
you near
and then
you get
closer
closer
closer
until
i explode
when you
get so close
that
you are me
and
i am you
one
Literature
A Man Mourns His Muse
A Man Mourns His Muse
We were all paired on Parnassus.
But when the city sank
under the howling water I left him.
Snap. I caught him old
on his deathbed. He spoke
quietly. I leaned in, deftly:
Once I dreamt
of flickering elms
the dancing cars
O I chased them till I wept.
I could not match them
for speed. They threw
spooling loops of light
as though they knew
I would not catch them.
In another dream
I skated
the wafer of light
between evening and night
balanced, glacial
until the moon rose
and I fell. Today I felt
I'd slipped into the space
between terraced houses.
He could not have known.
I
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Comments19
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Inspired work, so I am intrigued by the book.
A picture of innocence dealing with harsh realities and adding her own happier ending to the tale.
You could grow some strange fruit in your garden from this.
A picture of innocence dealing with harsh realities and adding her own happier ending to the tale.
You could grow some strange fruit in your garden from this.