Escapee

Thu, 03/05/2015 - 11:30 -- Rye15

I have a vagina

But I am not a sheath.

And I haven’t a virgin wreath.

 

I will not be confined

By my sex,

By the blind.

 

My passion and desire

Lick me inside like fire.

 

 

I have a six-pack.

Peel off each flimsy layer

Of pearls, skirts, and perfect hair.

 

I can hold my own 

in the mud and dirt.

Away from the general jailers

My tongue is as good as a sailor’s.

 

 

I decorate this flesh 

like a tree on Christmas.

Each scene is a sculpture

to bury my love and power.

 

I live as an escapee

In the fringes of the screen.

But I don’t run to flee

I run to be seen.

This poem is about: 
Me

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