my muscles are singing for one more gallop,
my thighs, bruised and swollen, need a
bang.
my back is popping and creaking, but it’s yearning
to arch.
i need a ****.
not gentle, not serene. do not take your time with me,
(let’s get straight tothepoint,
your point, please)
i am sore (always)
but it is the pain i thrive on, the pain that makes me
grin with a cheshire smile each morning.
i need a ****.
animalistic, disorderly,
as the peevish thoughts in my brain.
i do not want flowers, diamonds, chocolates,
i want the blue of your fingers, the red of your teeth,
the overwhelming thunders and oceans
that rest between your thighs.
i need a ****.
tonight dear, right now, dear,
let me hear you
growl.