She didn't forget that brassier
It was a lame excuse to go back
No one touches her like she does
Once again, she finds herself
Standing on the threshold
Knocking on her door
The door she once slammed
One long look
Sends a shudder down her spine
Hairs on the back of her neck
She makes them stand up
A slight caress
Sweet nothings in her ear
A mere brush
Of her lips against hers
The way she sniffs her cologne
And casually uncovers her nude
Transforms her into a beast
The beast she is...
They tear eachother apart
It feels so right
She screams out her name
But below a whisper
She says
"This is wrong
I don't want this
Please stop..."
By. Yvonne Olga
Poets Note;
It's Poetry Wednesday! I hope your week is going great so far. This is a piece I wrote last year, sometime in September, it's a sapphic poem... Deviant of me huh!
I try as much as possible to explore poetry and to put down whatever comes to my mind. I never limit myself to a certain way of writing.
I would love to hear your thoughts on this poem, please leave a comment below. Thanks for reading! :-)
~O~
Xoxo
