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Lost

Journaling my moods, essays, erotica, poetry. Words are my super power. I can turn people on with them, but I can also turn them off.
4 months ago. Saturday, August 30, 2025 at 12:26 AM

 I fell into the darkness

Where my true self lived

A creature of voluptuous hungers,

Silken black hair,

Silted dark eyes

And curves that swayed

With every step.

What was this? How had she gotten free?

I clutched at my white starched collar and coffee stained apron

In matriarchal revulsion

-That whore-

I thought I killed her

A hundred times

Buried her deep in unmarked graves

Yet here she was again.

Smile winking at me

In cream and secrets

Glossy damp crimson lipped

Over her freckled shoulder.

She kept walking,

Giggling as she bent to blow at a dandelion star,

Her pink hairless core

Winking at me

From a Venus fold

As soft and wet as a rose

In gratuitous bloom.

I turned hot with all the shame

She didn’t feel.

Before she danced through the dark,

Past a parade of masculine

Teasing skin

between motes of light and dark

Shameless in her appetite.

I had no knife to silence her

Here in the dark

Only truth

Whose wounds bled deep

In me

But left her

More free than all the starch

I’d used as armor

For my fears.

 

 

 

 

 

 


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