J.W.J.

My body was a vessel for the male ego,

An instrument of pleasure and of sexual gain,

Until a sensory angel came into my life

And turned sex into love again. 

I gave myself to scum and smut and stranger all alike, 

Unintentional subjection to long-afflicted pain,

When I realized my worth in the reflection of his eyes,

I turned sex into love again;

Then dashed my misconceptions of lovemaking and of love,

A resurrected womanhood doused of cleansing rain;

Breasts and bosoms, bodies, aspirations: 

We turned sex into love again.