The prize
The prize
That was not the prize
There is a hot sting not to wear gold
Nor silver, nor copper, nor soft satin
There is a gnawing hunger
Not to gain,
Check,
Dollar,
Nor nickel.
But
The prize
The prize
Those were not the prize
I crave that first voice
That tongue dancing my song
Those lips kissing my ink
Those teeth chewing in ecstasy
The words I wrote
Just me
