Different hands caress different spots
All good but all different
Practice and precision dolled out to the next lover
In whose arms you attempt to forget a previous disappointment
Yet seek to conquer with newly acquired skill
The walls of guilt close in on those of the heart
Breath becomes sparse
as tears of consciousness flood your blood stream, making you blue
Yet you continue to move, trained sexy, hungry beast on the pe
en
To prove a point to yourself or to the owner of the penis on which you grind and halt and grind some more, hoping to get the fulfillment
And perhaps even the ring at some point
Cuz friends, family and even Ms. Beyonce advise you of your deepest feminine need to scheme, trap, mate and maybe love somewhere in the process of discovering your lost feminist femininity.
- fatu sall
