It was a cold, wintry December day.
I was at home,
sitting by the fire.
The fire was hot,
but from where I sat,
it felt like a warm blanket.
my nipples started to lactate,
I did not know what was going on.
I lifted up my soaking wet shirt,
and put my hands over my nipples,
in an attempt to stop the lactating,
up it did not work.
I squeezed my nipples,
to see if they would lactate,
but nothing happened.
I went to bed,
hoping this nightmare would be over in the morning.
But it wasn't.
When I woke up,
I went into the bathroom to perform my daily morning activities,
when I realized something on my chest.
A third nipple!
I tried to rip it off,
but I couldn't.
Later that day,
I was eating a juicy, tender steak,
all three of my nipples began to lactate!
I tried to stop them,
for they were lactating all over my steak.
Then, like before,
This proceeded for many days.
I woke up with another nipple,
and everyday around six o'clock,
they would all lactate,
until one day,
the unthinkable happened.
I woke up.
I could not move.
I had no legs.
I was a giant nipple.
"NO!" I screamed.
I began to lactate,
and then I exploded.
Music provides a blanket of background noise,
As you sit, in a velveteen chair, legs parted, hands on your knees,
I stand between them, silhouetted against flashing gold lights,
I stare down into your upturned face & slowly begin to undress.
Piece by piece my clothing drops to the floor at your feet,
Pooling around my clear, stiletto heels.
Your eyes too drop down, lingering on my breasts,
My skin, soft & sun kissed, shimmers golden in the soft light.
I turn slowly, allowing every curve of my body to be illuminated,
The arch of my back, the contour of my hip & the arc of my buttocks
Your eyes trace down my thighs, now spread & back up,
As I bend, & reveal my inner most secrets to you.
My sweet opening that promises so much pleasure,
Just inches from your lips & your tongue & your pleasure.
Slowly I slide to my knees, down on all fours, face to the floor,
Inviting you to enter me, visually, take me with your eyes,
I turn to meet your groin & I watch with interest,
As I play with my nipple, at the stirring that may come.
I rise up instead, to my knees, cupping my breasts, blowing,
On my now erect nipples & my eyes reach yours,
And time & space hold for us, as we join together, for a second,
Before I lean in, my breath on your cheek & I whisper,
That's £20 please.
I have a third nipple.
That doesn't mean I'm cripple.
It's on the left side.
Some people think its weird like Jekyll and Hyde.
But there really actually wrong.
Because my nipple just makes me a lot more strong.
People either love it or they hate it.
Either way they wish they had one and usually throw a fit.
When I was small enouf to suck da nipple of me mother (13),
I found da great sensation of da ganja,
Me uncle Batius make me a sandwich every day,
He know dat I like a da strong cheese,
So he put it in everytime,
I did not know dat da cheese was gangja smoke til much lata,
I neva undastood wy it make me so happy,
I fuk yo bitch
I have bruises like amethyst
But the truth is I’m the catalyst
When I see colours of bismuth
I know you mean business
Bruises like amethyst
But you say you’re a pacifist
An analyst an activist
But you held my mind so it contorts, distorts
And aborts so it can’t resonate or fabricate
Or rationalise a world inside
That doesn't exist and insists
That I can’t be kissed and won’t be missed
I've got a black heart like tourmaline
But I'm the alkaline to your acid time
Trust me I am fine, I'm a pale blue
Crystalline Structural perfection
Don’t need your affection or your ways
Of objections did my bra strap give you an
You could say I'm a feminist
But I'm more of a scientist
Busting body myths like biologist
You say ‘but tits are sexual organs’
Listen you morons, all nipples are a erogenous zone
Regardless of gender , boys nips literally have no purpose
Except when they get nervous for getting a little lip service
Trust me I'm fine, I'm a pale white crystalline
Structural perfection I don’t need your objection
Not a gem stone for your collar bone I don’t give a fuck about
Your muscle tone, I'm a cyclone all alone I could spend a
1,000 years on my own.
Taunt, firm, erect and pleasing fair
and warm amidst the cool night air.
A drop of breast milk is expressed
to please the one who loves it best.
He who waits with undisguised pleasure
to suck upon it at his leisure.
Relax, this is no porn spawned prattle
Just baby Rob and his Two A.M. bottle.
At your breast he likes to play
Like an Olympian on the high platform
he rears back,
contemplates the distance,
Today he grabs his own hair, pulls.
The more he pulls, the more he screams
until I unclutch his fingers.
Don’t we all wish sometimes
a big hand would swoop down
to unclutch us
from our mistakes?
Then, oh! to rear back
at life’s big love.
Oh thou art an odd little man
Who peirced his tits in a fetish fad
A date from hell it had to be when he started acting very weird!!
Lick my shoes! Go f@@k off. You've no idea what they cost!
You want my tights ! Hang on a mo
I don't like where this is going!
Now the narcissistic little prick has only gone and unwrapped his dick
Time to pack my bags and leave this one's
not the one for me
Tie me up and call me names! I'll call the police they do the same !!
Don't do that I beg of you
I'm scared of them you have no clue
I can't face the boys in blue
They will ridicule me far too much
Then the truth came squirting out
A KINKY FIREMAN
NOW GET OUT!!!!
I used to watch her a lot
In pe class one day
She was running
And she jumped right next to me
And there must have been a draft
maybe it had to do with my breathing
but her baggy shirt flew up
and she wasn't wearing a bra
Only half the girls were at this point
And I saw her nipple
She rejected my advances
Later in the year
But she couldn’t make me unsee what I saw,
Her mammary gland, its flowering lobes,
Whispers to peel back her petaled clothes,
Reveal the areola that he chose.
The yellowed fatty tissues pulsate
With every subdued step she takes,
To me, she is a disparate
Painting in beige and pastel pink,
Her airless murmurs bring me to the brink
Of analysis. Dialysis of words distinctly
Separate from what they define.
The concentric rouge inclines
into a dimpled tip. And in no time,
We learn this is ‘the nipple’.
They say, “Take the nipple out of your mouth.”
But all the success ahead of us is merely comfort; comfort that our father's could never give us. It's OK though, everyone needs control. Time is strong and constantly moving, everyone needs a direction to avoid their minds being ripped in half. After all, Individuality is just a controlled habit of protection walking.
Walking fast. Walking slow. Walking in step with someone else.
Walking right in. Walking right through. Walking right on out.
Walking backwards. Walking forwards. Walking in a big circle.
We're walking on our conveyor belts and one day they'll tell us to watch our step, we're getting off.
Sometimes you sneer at the lower paths and masturbate to the higher ones.
You could fall off your own road at any moment so
you shouldn't strain your neck like that.
Sometimes you stop to kneel down on one knee.
You're pretending to tie your shoes but
they're always knotted.
Sometimes you jump a thousand lanes,
hoping someone is watching your majestic leaps.
Will they follow you wherever you go?
And where exactly
are you going anyways?
What they'll tell you:
What they didn't tell you:
How to Believe.
How to Embrace.
How to have Faith.
How to Love.
“Take the nipple out of your mouth.”