(Photo: Tim Marshall)
I’m not sorry
for the way my body reacts to his touch
the way the fire ignites in my groin
and licks its way up to my smile
Wicked boy, nasty boy, reveling in man flesh.
Can’t help myself it feels so good
as my eyes roll back and I shake swearing allegiance to all that is needy and lovely.
Things that should be left unspoken if only I could stop calling out his name.
I’m not sorry to the ladies
for taking this one off the market
throwing a wrench in the Adam and Eve argument
For being woman enough to take him on and man enough to hold him here.
I throw deuces to what should be and embrace the yin and yang
I am, I really am not sorry
but I ashamed for a split second that I couldn’t last longer.
That when I can’t be stronger.
To tame that hunger
when he gives me that come get me smile
I am not sorry
even if there is to be hell to pay
one sad day when this is over
when the man in the red car
takes me away
I’ll always imagine my lover’s
twelve gauge shotgun
powerful enough to blow away my fear
my loathing, my …..mind