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Stretch marks hugging her body
Curving around on her hips
Simply shouting "her majesty" on her brown skin
Patterns and prints that justify her beauty

A proud women she is
With all natures purposes aĺl over her body

Thy Temple.
Imagine the outrage
If a band, all-male members,
Refuse to play tunes
for the opposite gender.

Imagine the uproar
The venue would face
For excluding a half
of their customer base.

“It’s rank discrimination!”
The ladies would moan.
If the males got to listen
while the girls  stayed at home.

Yet the Bulletproof Stockings,
That band that wears wigs,
Exclude guys from their concerts
Not just chauvinist pigs.

“It’s a matter of Faith!”
The girl band members say;
No guys at their gigs!
No men hear them play.


Yet I’ve heard pious Pastry chefs
Don’t get to choose.
If gay brides want a cake
It’s a crime to refuse.

An Orthodox authoress
who published a tome
would be most put out
if male buyers stayed home.

So if girl musicians
seek public expression
They ought to think twice
about gender oppression.

Its great that they’re keeping
an orthodox home.
But enough of these concerts
For women alone.
An all girl orthodox Jewish rock band banned all male patrons from their concert and played for women only. Apparently Religion dictates that they are only to perform for the husbands, presumably as solo acts. Apparently their all female audience, who would cheerfully **** a baptist baker for discriminating against a gay married couple, see no harm in excluding male members from the audience. The band should change their name to the Bona Dea.
1201

So I pull my Stockings off
Wading in the Water
For the Disobedience’ Sake
Boy that lived for “or’ter”

Went to Heaven perhaps at Death
And perhaps he didn’t
Moses wasn’t fairly used—
Ananias wasn’t—
I remember when you stripped me of my lace and stockings, you gasped and said you've been waiting to see my bare soul in such a raw state for a long time

I wonder if when you stripped me of everything I loved, you gasped in your mind and realized you've been waiting to leave me in such a raw state for a long time.
Deranged rocks, spread in albeit magnetic threads
rattle the sky's mirror with impatience.
Lay her feet on the ground, the young girl did.
The touch of her soft, dampened scarf
kindled the metamorphic calm.

My veritas found its unwanted shrine--
The dreadful peace that let it dine,
upon the well-being of its host nest its swine.
The ****** amalgam in her eyes
led its produce down her wavy brown vines.
They hid her cheeks, and brought down traited drops
of long-withheld tangy crust
towards the lavender ascot.

She grabbed onto her feet,
warm and wrapped with white cotton and wool heat...
she caressed the ornamental fabric,
swerved her fingers along its threaded magic.
Their lacy innocence familiarized her and made her smile,
whence the memory of her veritas triggered in her mouth's isle.

She lay her hopeful eyes on the silver-nitrate clad scarf,
covering the now-calming rocks' quaff.
Of my reflection her face saw only loss,
for her recognition seemed forever trapped in virtuality,
in moss.
 Apr 2018 Johnny Noiπ
Pia
Yes
 Apr 2018 Johnny Noiπ
Pia
Yes
Touch me
all over
Then plunge it
deep inside me
Like that!
Yes! Yes! Yes!
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