yin and yang part 1

Yin and yang (part 1)

I’m not supposed to be sexual
I’m told
A harlot, am I? For demanding that my body be worshiped
Oh and not by any, no. society be damned
I want to rise and fall like a queen over her king-dom
Watch, Those smoke-on-a-cold-night grey eyes looking up at me
As your ancestors roll in their graves, jealous
Jealous that what they defiled in the back of wood sheds
And were too ashamed to love
The skin the they deemed to be a mark of slaves though it covered their forgotten children,
You pray to every inch of it
Open and willing, a rebel who rubs his flag over my every curve
And I shutter and you mutter “Scream for me”
I comply and pull you close and give you my command
“Yes, Master” you exhale and whisper to me
and I giggle at the irony
I’m so wet, your sweat, tracing down your bone straight chest hair
Mixing with the sweetness, my sugar cane musk, that you must suck dry
The smell that would drive you mad before
When I would kiss you on the cheek and call you my best friend


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