Hey there Lover.
There you lay passed out
Beside me softly breathing.
We just made violent passionate love
Now you rest here sleeping.
My thighs are still shaking;
My arms, a little sore.
Tired, I find my body
But my mind, wide awake.
They come creeping in,
Saturating my brain.
Is it me you still want
Now that the moment has lapsed?
Would you let me know
If another catches your attention?
Or would I need to figure that out
All on my own?
I know you have a history of lovers
Who can’t seem to let you go.
I’m not jealous;
In fact, I understand their plight.
But does she ever sneak back into your mind
To replace those thoughts of me?
Is it me who holds your imagination,
Your affection, your future, your fantasies?
Do you still grip yourself, alone
When you’re away, envisioning me?
Is it me whose mouth you’re dreaming of;
My skin, my scent, my voice, my hands?
Is it possible: could I banish all memories
Of those who’ve come before?
Maybe erase all traces of them
Using only my body (and perhaps some toys)?
I want to fuck those women
Right. Out. Of. Your. Brain.
“Allison? I don’t remember her.”
“Veronica? Who’s she?”
“Jamie? I think I vaguely recall…”
“So what? It’s YOU, that’s all I need.”
Perhaps I’m not good enough
Or I should try to be someone else.
But the fact is, I’m me
What you see is what you get.
I’m dark, I’m needy, I’m passionate,
I’m average (nothing special).
I’m soft, I’m honest, I’m in my head,
I like it rough (I can handle pain).
So there you have it, Lover,
Am I enough for you?
I’m not looking for a forever answer
Just, for now, I need…
My doubts silenced.
tara caribou | ©2020
Blog to Serve
Professional Wildlife, Landscape and Seascape Photography
Love to write!
Life Is Beautiful
Apologies for my apologies
All of Me
Providing a voice for the voiceless. Poets, artists, writers...sound off! Grinding through the dumpster fire that can be life...possibly get published
Writing and Whatnot
Artist, Poet, Writer
Keeping borderline strong
Exposing The Establishment Daily