' "This is poetry," she thought to herself;
Eyes wide, blank and puffy.
Never unwavering,
Nor backing down.
She raised to her feet in fear:
Fear of the unknown,
Fear of love,
Fear of hate,
Fear of loathing.
Fear of everything in this world.'
Except for the man who looks me in the eyes
As he grips my thighs and buries himself deeper inside my brains and further inside my heart.
"She feared everything except him."
As I licked my lips and spread apart
Legs and thoughts and hopes and dreams
And everything that tries to come in between.
"This is not poetry," I thought to myself
As I got on my knees to worship his body.
"This is a thought she never saw coming."
GMP
05/05/2019
