Post by syjydeh on Apr 5, 2011 21:45:52 GMT -6
Here, I carry her now, she to me is nowt but that which I call 'IT'.
Do I wish to have the burden of the prude that keeps such tenderness knit?
Nay, behold, when body and desire burns highest, I offer her
to the one I did love.
He limply hangs beneath me,
he whispers he doesn't want me,
another woman has taken his virginity...
I rise away from him, the shadows heavy on curve of my back and slope of my hips.
Bereft I take my robe of sheer satin, hang it over my creamy shoulders, and a sigh jumps from my lips.
I ask why he didn't tell me before,
it would be easier than just waiting for...
This.
Time again later, he takes it yet,
calls me his lover, his angel, his pet
and after this deed is done,
I decide he is not the one...
too distant we get and this Other woman disturbs me still
she makes me want to kill....
Him.
I am not against having one two three or more,
but if I do not find them lovely, then I'd care not a score,
lovers should agree
a quarrel in bed is not desire to me....
But it has been years and its almost as if the Prude still hangs over my head.
Twenty One tells me I'm legal now and can take anyone old enough to bed,
but what if there is no desire?
Five years can make one rusty and ill of the task,
even when a few have the gall to ask,
Pleasure, I yearn for it, to taste it and in it bask,
but fear replaces the need, irrationally,
emotionally...
So what if the body I have is desirable,
assets where assets are needed, wanted and desirable,
shouldn't one feel desirable.
By the darkness, by the blade, or by unfulfilled fantasies dreamed,
I pray that desire be reawakened in me
so the prude who follows though I have no virginity
will leave me be....
Do I wish to have the burden of the prude that keeps such tenderness knit?
Nay, behold, when body and desire burns highest, I offer her
to the one I did love.
He limply hangs beneath me,
he whispers he doesn't want me,
another woman has taken his virginity...
I rise away from him, the shadows heavy on curve of my back and slope of my hips.
Bereft I take my robe of sheer satin, hang it over my creamy shoulders, and a sigh jumps from my lips.
I ask why he didn't tell me before,
it would be easier than just waiting for...
This.
Time again later, he takes it yet,
calls me his lover, his angel, his pet
and after this deed is done,
I decide he is not the one...
too distant we get and this Other woman disturbs me still
she makes me want to kill....
Him.
I am not against having one two three or more,
but if I do not find them lovely, then I'd care not a score,
lovers should agree
a quarrel in bed is not desire to me....
But it has been years and its almost as if the Prude still hangs over my head.
Twenty One tells me I'm legal now and can take anyone old enough to bed,
but what if there is no desire?
Five years can make one rusty and ill of the task,
even when a few have the gall to ask,
Pleasure, I yearn for it, to taste it and in it bask,
but fear replaces the need, irrationally,
emotionally...
So what if the body I have is desirable,
assets where assets are needed, wanted and desirable,
shouldn't one feel desirable.
By the darkness, by the blade, or by unfulfilled fantasies dreamed,
I pray that desire be reawakened in me
so the prude who follows though I have no virginity
will leave me be....