sex object. not afraid of the words.
I've used many objects for the sake of sex.
in fact my body has been pretty disposable-
I don't really mind it being used as
an "it" or a "thing" or a "that"
I've been cataloged and numbered-
like a returned book.
none of this is new to me.
but when my mind becomes saturated
with the secret darkness of manipulation
and it is slimy with half-truths
and unbelievably trite poetics.
forgive me, but this I will not stand for.
use me up and leave me out in heat.
but leave my poor mind, in tact.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Reach for the clouds. . .
Tickle your toes. . .
-
The Anchor for Joel When love embarks, with its generating propellers slicing through the interminable oceans of imperfection that are, for ...
-
husband and I trek a mile for ice cream just for the creamy banana, crunchy pecans, and chunks of thumb-sized chocolate. shoes flipping and...
-
Golden tendrils on her shoulder no rhyme, no reason, just getting older her half-pint work of exhaltation now serves as mere constant frustr...
-
wide-eyed and curious, he peeks from his shell with seaweed speckles, where 8 monarch butterflies landed permanently. he puts his footing on...
-
Ah, 7. The number in question. During this process of developing my first full-length work of prose, and a memoir to boot, I have considered...
-
Tickling toes- there was something about that barefooted madness something about that wistful waist-high wishing and wooshing in the woods, ...
-
A woman's stance feet parted so that like a breezy window the mantle opened slightly lets in curves of salty air- but here there is no, ...
-
nipped at the ankles which is how I wander through life sometimes I must be pushed through a door finally opened after years of knock...
-
Letter to Kate For William Blake My Catherine Sophia, as you would be known. You were just Kate. Child of Pity, full of mouth. Widened but i...
-
July 9th i feel like running again. it's either that or swimming in a valley of tears. July 10th you couldn't tell by looking at us,...
The mind is the most important sex organ we have.
ReplyDelete(Ever heard of a mind-fuck?) ;)
Interesting perspective the disconnection of mind and body to keep some salvation. Evocative write ~ Rose
ReplyDeleteI agree with Eric. A mind-fuck is just as important. I also agree that I am not bothered by my body being used as an it, or a thing. I find it powerfully stimulating to be "used" in a passionate need. Manipulated is another matter. Slimy half truths are sorry excuses for transparency. And now we've come full circle back to mind-fuck!
ReplyDeleteWell done poem, and an interesting response to the prompt. Good one, Amy!
ReplyDeleteSo raw and open like a wound! I liked it :D
ReplyDeleteSad. The poor object is a witness to the baser qualities of humans. I like the way you've brought it out.
ReplyDeleteI like the combination of emotions... How you seem relaxed with so much, but then really says 'enough' when someone tries to f*ck with your mind. Powerful read! I really like it!
ReplyDelete;) thanks!
ReplyDeleteoh yes to this. yes yes yes.
ReplyDeleteDana :)
ReplyDelete