When I slip into my lingerie
It means I am partially ready
But not to have my womanhood plucked open
For that would involve
The subliminal **** of
The underside of my skin
I do not want to be deflowered
Lest the festering corpses in my closet
Are expulsed to be
Too varnished,
Too synthetic,
But I want
Your head to shyly probe within the
Musky walls of my inner galaxy
While I embrace the
Tendons of my muscles
Yawned open like the convulsing lips
Of an exposed fish
Before it dies